A 3x4 Collection
by okieluv
Summary: 3x4. Shounen Ai. 1st Story- A could-have-happened oneshot centered around episode 7. 2nd Story- A fluffy, post-EW story. 3rd Story- Direct sequel to 2nd story. 4th Story- A X-mas songfic oneshot based on the song When You're Gone by Avril Lavigne.
1. San Francisco Night

I have to admit that I don't really know what has come over me, but I seem to be writing Shounen Ai (Boys Love) stories now. After re-watching Gundam Wing, I have become a huge fan of 3x4. It's so hard to ignore all the hints for it.

Anyway this is my take on what happened in Episode 7 _Scenario for Bloodshed_ after Quatre and Trowa meet on the ferry and before they show up, seemingly together, at New Edwards.

This is the first part of a four-part series. The order of the stories is:

_San Francisco Night_

_Angel's Spirit_

_Together Forever_

_When You're Gone_

Disclaimer: These characters belong to somebody who isn't me.

San Francisco Night

By Megan Hardman

AC 195

Quatre Raberba Winner entered the phone booth, while Sandrock was being loaded onto the ferry that would take him to San Francisco. He'd managed to leave behind the Maganacs because he was determined to do this mission alone. Ever since he'd arrived on Earth, he'd been depending too much on other people's strength and not enough on his own. He needed to prove that he was the right person to pilot Sandrock. He gave a little sigh as he picked up the phone and typed in the number for the hotel. He knew all that, but he couldn't help feeling a little lonely. Someone picked up on the other end, but he missed what they'd said.

"Is this the San Francisco Starly (not sure on the name, but I'm sure that's what he said) Hotel?" he asked, just to be on the safe side. The voice confirmed and he continued, "I'd like to reserve a room, please. I'm on my own. That's not a problem, right?"

"That's not a problem," the girl on the phone chirped. "Give me just a minute, sir."

Quatre was put on hold and he waited patiently. Just then, something compelled him to look towards the ferry and he was surprised to see another truck, much like his own, loading onto the ferry. But he was even more surprised when he saw who was behind the wheel.

"Huh," he said. "Looks like Trowa." For some reason, he felt extremely happy at the prospect of seeing Trowa Barton. He finished booking the room with the hotel and hurried back to the ferry. He found Trowa's parked truck easily and watched the boy jump out.

"Hi!" Quatre called out to him just as he shut the door. "So we meet again." Trowa turned in his direction. He looked a little surprised and then his expression turned to anger.

"Funny we ended up at the same destination." Quatre said, walking up to him.

Trowa put his hands on his hips and turned slightly away from Quatre. "I'm doing this alone," he said, almost angrily.

Quatre, suddenly wanting to impress Trowa, mimicked him by putting his hands on his hips and raising his chin a little. "So am I," he announced. "But what if we helped each other?"

"Don't think so." Trowa said firmly, turning away completely and walking off.

"Two's always better than one." Quatre called hopefully, taking several steps after Trowa, but Trowa ignored him and kept walking.

Quatre sighed and dropped down beside the truck. "That went well," he muttered, putting his chin on his hand and feeling sorry for himself. The feeling passed quickly though and he decided to try talking to Trowa once more. It took him several minutes to locate the quiet boy who was leaning against the ship's railing and not looking happy to see him.

"Why are you bothering me again?" Trowa asked bluntly.

"Because I think it's better if we work together," Quatre answered. "We have the same mission, right? At New Edwards?"

"Maybe." Trowa replied evasively. The ferry rocked a little as the engine was started and soon it was pulling away from the dock. Quatre leaned against the railing too, staring at the retreating dock.

"Well I think we have the same mission," Quatre said finally. "So wouldn't it be better to have some help? I'd greatly appreciate your help, Trowa."

"I fight alone, Quatre. I have no need for anyone's assistance."

"Why not?" Quatre demanded. "If I hadn't helped you at Corsica, you'd be dead now."

"What's your point?"

"Are you saying it wouldn't have mattered if you'd died?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Is your life that meaningless?" Quatre inquired, taken aback. "Don't you have anyone who cares about what happens to you?"

Catherine Bloom's face popped up in Trowa's mind and he pushed it away. "I don't have any family or friends, so nobody cares," he said.

"How horrible," Quatre looked sad and then determined. "Well if nobody else cares, I will."

"Say what?" Trowa asked, shocked.

"I don't want you to die, Trowa," Quatre said. "You are my friend and I don't wish to lose you."

"You are a very strange person, Quatre," Trowa decided. "But, thank you."

"I'd do anything for a friend," Quatre smiled up at him. "So will you help me?"

Trowa shook his head slightly and wondered when exactly this blond-haired boy had managed to get under his skin. "All right, Quatre, I'll help you." Trowa conceded.

"Wonderful!" Quatre cried. "I really think it's the best strategy to cooperate. It's certainly better than fighting each other."

"It is at that," Trowa agreed. "So, what's your plan?"

"This is my idea," Quatre quickly laid out a very logical plan.

"You're smarter than I thought, Quatre." Trowa observed when he was done.

"Thanks, I guess," Quatre said. "By the way, there are other Gundam pilots besides us."

"Really? How many?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but at least three."

"Do you suppose they'll be at New Edwards?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. After all, we received the same mission. It's likely they did as well."

"They'd better stay out of my way, if they know what's good for them."

"I think we should work together with them too."

"No." Trowa stated.

"Why? It would make our missions easier."

"I don't like having to rely on other people." Trowa explained.

"Why?" Quatre asked again.

"Because they always let you down," Trowa said matter-of-factly.

"I won't let you down, Trowa," Quatre assured him. "I promise."

Trowa looked Quatre over carefully and questioned his sanity. "You know, Quatre, for some reason I believe you," he said and sighed. "If you think it's wise to join forces with the other Gundam pilots, I'll go along with you."

"Thank you, Trowa," Quatre said softly. The two stayed quiet until the San Francisco dock came into view.

"What are you going to do after you get off the ferry?" Quatre asked as they headed for the ship's hold.

"I'm not sure, but I'll probably rent a room somewhere. Why?"

"I've already got a room reserved, so why don't you share it with me?"

"You sure?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Quatre," Trowa said. "But what are we going to do with our Gundams?"

"I'm planning on hiding mine near the dock and walking to the hotel. It's not far."

"Then I'll follow you."

After the ferry docked, Trowa and Quatre unloaded their Gundams and found a place to hide them nearby in an unused parking garage. Then they headed for the hotel, where Quatre checked in. Once he got the keycard, they went up to the room.

"This is a nice room," Trowa observed as they entered. The room was fairly large with a king-sized bed, a couch, a glass table and a kitchenette.

"I'll take the couch." Quatre offered.

"No, you're paying for the room, so you get the bed, but I get the first shower." Trowa disappeared into the bathroom and a few minutes later Quatre heard the water running. By the time Trowa got out, Quatre had called housekeeping and had a pillow and extra blankets brought in for Trowa.

"Your turn, Quatre," Trowa said, emerging from the bathroom dressed for bed in a pair of old, black shorts and a black sleeveless shirt. While Quatre showered, Trowa made a bed on the couch with the blankets and pillow and flopped onto it with a sigh. Shortly after that, Quatre rejoined him wearing red silk pajamas. He pulled back the covers and crawled into bed.

"Man, I'm tired," he yawned as he snuggled into the blankets.

"Hey, Quatre?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are the Maganacs? Aren't they always with you?"

"Yeah," Quatre sighed. "They are always with me, but just once I wanted to prove that I could handle a mission on my own. I've been wondering lately if maybe I was the wrong choice for Sandrock and I wanted to show, not just to everyone else, but also to myself, that I'm the right choice."

"Why do you think you're the wrong choice?"

"My family are pacifists, so I'm not used to fighting. I rely too much on the Maganacs in battle and never use Sandrock to its full potential. I also feel horrible regret when I kill people in battle and that's not how a Gundam pilot should act."

"It's not a bad thing, Quatre," Trowa said. "It just shows that you're a gentle person with a kind heart, but it is true that feelings like those are unnecessary in a war. Once the war is over though, Quatre, people like you will be able to move on and put this all behind them. However people like me will never be able to do that."

"How come?"

"All I've ever known is the battlefield. Outside of fighting, I have nothing to live for."

"That's right, earlier you said you didn't have any family. What happened to them?"

"They were killed when I was little in an air raid. Some soldiers found me and took me in. I've been fighting ever since," Trowa looked sad for a minute before pushing away the depressing memories. "What about your family, Quatre? I bet they don't approve of you piloting Sandrock."

"No, I bet they don't either," Quatre agreed. "I'm sure my father is very mad at me, but it's not like we got along anyway. I know my father loves me, but sometimes I feel I'm replaceable to him. Like maybe someday he'll get tired of me, get rid of me and grow a better son."

"'Grow a better son'?" Trowa repeated, confused. Then understanding lit his eyes. "I remember hearing somewhere that all the Winner children were test tube babies. Guess it must be true."

"Yes, it is true," Quatre confirmed.

"I also heard you have 29 sisters. Is that true too?" Trowa asked and Quatre nodded. "What's it like living with 29 women?"

"Technically I don't live with all my sisters. We have different mothers and most of my sisters live with their mothers. I don't even know most of them really." Quatre answered. Noticing Quatre's sad expression, Trowa steered the conversation away from family and onto happier things. The two talked for quite awhile before Quatre dropped off to sleep.

Trowa watched Quatre sleep and listened to his quiet, even breathing. After several minutes passed, he decided he wanted to get closer. Feeling like an idiot, he slipped off the couch and crept across the room to the bed. He knelt down beside it and reached out a trembling hand to touch Quatre's soft cheek.

"What's wrong with me?" Trowa wondered aloud as Quatre slept on. "What is it about you that bothers me so much? Why do you insist upon barging into my life and turning my world upside down?"

Truthfully, Trowa knew the answer to his questions, but he refused to acknowledge the fact that he was in love with a guy. He'd never been gay before, but, thinking about it now, he'd never really been anything before. He'd never liked, either familial liked or like-liked, anyone in his whole life, except possibly the parents and sister he could barely remember. Why in the universe did he like this pretty-boy rich kid? Shaking his head to clear it of confusing thoughts, Trowa looked down at Quatre and bit his bottom lip. Then, before he could change his mind, he leaned down and brushed his lips against Quatre's. He jumped back guiltily, feeling his face flush, but Quatre didn't even move.

"You're way too trusting, Quatre," Trowa muttered, wondering what he'd do if Quatre woke up. "You need to stay away from me." He kissed Quatre, softly, one more time and returned to the couch. It took several minutes before his heart quit racing and he stopped jumping at every little noise, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.

*****************************************

Quatre blinked open his eyes and wondered what had woken him up. He heard it again. Someone was crying out. It took him several seconds to realize that 'someone' was Trowa. Quatre sat up and looked over at the couch. Trowa was thrashing about and calling quietly for his mother. Quatre got out of bed and hurried to Trowa's side. Tears streaked Trowa's cheeks and he looked so young and vulnerable that Quatre's heart ached for him.

"Trowa?" he called softly. He touched Trowa's face with his hand. Trowa stopped thrashing and his eyes opened. His green eyes looked up at Quatre, but they weren't focused and Quatre knew he wasn't completely awake.

"Mom?" Trowa murmured, his eyes shutting again as he fell back asleep. Quatre moved his hand to Trowa's hair and stroked it gently.

"Poor Trowa," he sighed. "I wish I could take away all your loneliness and pain."

When Quatre was sure Trowa was sleeping soundly, he rose and went back to his bed. As he was climbing in it, he wondered why he wanted to take away Trowa's loneliness and pain. Somehow it didn't quite seem like something a friend would think. Also why had he been so happy to see Trowa and why couldn't he leave him alone? Unlike Trowa, Quatre still had a ways to go before figuring out what exactly it was he felt for the mysterious boy, but for now, he was just happy being close to him.

THE END


	2. Angel's Spirit

This is the second part of a four-part series. The order of the stories is:

_San Francisco Night_

_Angel's Spirit_

_Together Forever_

_When You're Gone_

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Wish I did, but I don't.

Angel's Spirit

By Megan Hardman

AC 198

Trowa Barton sighed as he flopped onto his blue couch, the only piece of furniture in his small apartment besides the bed. Ordered to keep watch on a suspicious man, he'd spent the whole night following the man from one bar to the next. Finally in the hours just before dawn, the man had returned to his hotel room, but morning had hardly broken before the man was back on the streets. Trowa had kept him in sight until Wufei Chang showed up to relieve him just after noon.

"And I have to do it all again tomorrow," Trowa sighed again. His green eyes rested on the only personal item in the apartment. Hanging on the wall across from the couch was a small, framed picture of him and his best friend, Quatre Raberba Winner. It had been taken at Relena Darlain's Christmas party last year. Quatre looked so handsome in his white dress shirt, black slacks and long white coat, smiling like a child. Beside him, Trowa wore a nearly identical outfit, only his was all black, and his face was a mask of calm and seriousness. Everybody, including Quatre, had got a kick out of the fact that they were dressed alike and Relena had insisted that they take a picture together. Duo Maxwell had even opened his big mouth and said they looked like a couple wearing matching clothes. Trowa had thought about killing Duo, but hadn't wanted to ruin Relena's party.

Trowa ran his fingers through his long bangs and wondered what Quatre was doing right now. He had a huge meeting tomorrow in London and he should have arrived there by now. He'd said he would call after he got settled in the hotel. Trowa let his eyes slide shut and drifted off into a dream about a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed person. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep when the phone started ringing and interrupted his dream. He reached down to pick the phone up off the floor and brought it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Hi, Trowa." said Quatre's warm, sweet voice, effectively waking Trowa up and chasing away all his weariness.

"Oh, hi, Quatre," he said, struggling to keep his voice neutral. He glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the floor near his bed and saw that it was 15:30(3:30pm). It would be about 14:30(2:30pm) in London. "Did you just get to the hotel?"

"Yeah, my flight was delayed and then I got stuck in traffic," Quatre explained. "Sorry, but I can't talk long. The company president wants to meet for supper in a few hours and I think I'm going to rest a bit before then. I just wanted to call you since I said I would."

"That's alright."

"Oh, but before I hang up, I've got a meeting with Relena next week and I wondered if you would be my bodyguard while I'm in the Sanc Kingdom?"

"Sure." Trowa replied.

"Great. Then I'll call Lady Une tomorrow after my meeting and set it up. Goodbye, Trowa." Quatre said softly.

"Bye, Quatre," Trowa returned. He hung up the phone and got to his feet. He stopped in front of the picture and touched Quatre's smiling face, before continuing on to bed.

*************************************

Quatre hung up the phone with a sigh, his fingers lingering on the receiver for a moment. He laid back against the bed, putting his hands behind his head and staring out the window at the afternoon sunshine. There were so many words he wanted to say to Trowa, but when it came down to it, he never had the courage to actually say them. He didn't know when exactly he'd fallen in love with Trowa, but he knew when he'd realized it. It was during the Zero incident, right before the Vayeate exploded and he'd thought Trowa was going to die.

"You know, it's funny," he announced to the empty room. "I've never been afraid to die, but I'm afraid to say three little words." He rolled onto his side and shut his eyes. He really did need to rest before supper, and he needed to quit thinking about Trowa. At 18:00(6pm), Quatre gave up trying to rest and got up to get ready. He showered and dressed quickly. He was walking towards the door when the first tremor hit.

"An earthquake?" he questioned. Suddenly the whole room shook and Quatre fell to his knees. His last thought, before the ground disappeared out from underneath him, was that he'd never get to tell Trowa that he loved him.

*************************************

Trowa rolled over in his sleep and partly woke up. A strange smell was in the air and it woke him up completely. He knew that smell. It was the smell of Quatre's favorite cologne. A slightly floral, slightly spicy smell.

"Quatre?" he murmured, opening his eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, with moonlight from the window beside the bed illuminating him, was Quatre. He looked slightly confused and a little afraid. Trowa sat up with a gasp.

"Quatre, how did you get here?" he demanded.

"I...I don't...I don't know. I was..." Quatre stammered. Just then the phone rang, interrupting him. Trowa stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" he asked, still staring at Quatre.

"Trowa, turn on the TV!" Duo's voice shouted through the phone.

"Duo, you know I don't own a TV. What's wrong?"

"It's awful, Trowa! There was an earthquake in London and the hotel Quatre was staying at has caved in!" Duo cried. Trowa, stoic, calm, collected Trowa, let out a cry and the phone slipped from his lifeless fingers, as he felt his blood run cold. Quatre, still sitting on the bed, had gone white and seemed to be frozen.

"Trowa! Trowa!" Duo's panicked voice filled the silent apartment. Trowa reached down and picked up the phone.

"I'm sorry, Duo, I can't talk right now," he said and shut the phone off. He walked towards the bed and reached out a hand to touch Quatre's face, but his hand passed right through him.

"Trowa," Quatre whispered, his blue eyes filled with tears. "Am I dead? I am, aren't I? That's why I'm like this. I'm a ghost!" He buried his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Trowa watched him and wondered why he felt so detached, not realizing that he was in shock. He dropped onto the bed beside Quatre and stared straight ahead. Slowly, Quatre's presence beside him pulled Trowa from his reverie.

"It's alright, Quatre, don't cry," he said, reaching forward instinctively to touch his shoulder. His hand met with empty air and Trowa snatched his hand back. Suddenly the truth of the situation fully hit him.

"What do you mean 'It's alright'? How is this alright?" Quatre shouted raising his tear streaked face to Trowa. Trowa looked thoughtful.

"If you're really here, then I guess that would make you a ghost. Maybe I'm just having a nightmare," he suggested. "But I don't think that's the case."

"Why am I a ghost?" Quatre questioned.

"Well, they say that when people, who have unfinished business, die, they become ghosts. So, Quatre, what's your unfinished business?"

"I..." Quatre's voice trailed off as the only possible unfinished business he had struck him. He remembered the last thought he'd had before dying. It would certainly explain a few things, including why he'd ended up in Trowa's apartment. He felt his cheeks flush and he turned away from Trowa.

"I don't know. I don't think I left anything unfinished," he lied. Even now, even being dead, wasn't enough to give him the courage to confess.

"Hmm, maybe if we both think about it, we can figure something out." Trowa said.

"Yeah," Quatre said softly. Trowa yawned and glanced at the clock. 20:45(9:45pm).

"Nobody's going to expect me to work tomorrow, but I still need more sleep," he said. He crawled back under the covers and was asleep in seconds. Quatre watched him for a minute before lying out on the bed beside him.

*****************************************

When Trowa woke up the next morning, he found himself looking at the back of Quatre's blond head. The fact that his head left no dent in the pillow it was lying on was a stark reminder of what had happened last night. Trowa sat up and Quatre turned to look at him.

"Morning, Trowa. Did you sleep well?" Quatre inquired. Trowa stared at Quatre and thought about how many times he'd wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning with Quatre beside him.

"This is so weird." Trowa dropped his head into his hands.

"What's weird?" Quatre asked. But before Trowa could form a reply, someone started banging on the front door.

"Trowa, are you alright?" called a familiar voice.

"It's Duo," Trowa whispered. He crossed the room and threw open the door. Duo had his fist in the air, getting ready to hit the door again.

"Hi, Trowa," he greeted, letting his hand fall. "I was really worried about you and came over as soon as it was daylight. But you look like you're doing okay."

Trowa looked up and down the hall and saw that it was empty. "Come here, Duo," he ordered, grabbing Duo by the collar and pulling him into the room.

"Uhm, Trowa?" Duo questioned, watching his friend carefully lock the door and wondering if Trowa had gone crazy. Trowa turned to face him.

"Duo, do you see anything strange with this room?" he demanded. Quatre had gotten off the bed and now stood right behind Duo. Duo looked slowly around the room.

"No," he answered finally. "Should I?" Trowa met Quatre's eyes and Quatre shrugged.

"Duo, I'm going to tell you something that might be a little hard to believe, but I am not lying and I'm not crazy either."

"Trowa, you're starting to scare me, buddy."

"Right before you called me last night; I woke up and smelled Quatre's cologne. When I opened my eyes, I saw him sitting on my bed."

"You mean, he was here, not in London? So he's still alive?" Duo looked relieved.

"No, Duo. His ghost was here. In fact, he's still here now." Trowa explained.

Duo looked around the room again and when he looked back at Trowa, his eyes were full of pity. "Trowa, no one's here, but us."

"I don't need your pity, Duo. I need you to believe me."

"Something like that is hard to believe. I know how you feel about Quatre, Trowa, but he's not here."

"Please, Duo, believe me. I promise he's here," Trowa begged. "Can't you smell his cologne?"

"Well, now that you mention it, yes, I think I can, but that doesn't prove anything." Duo replied.

"How can I convince you that he's here?" Trowa asked.

"It's impossible. If he's really a ghost, you're probably the only one who can see him," Duo answered. "But, if he's a ghost, he must have unfinished business."

"That's what we thought, but Quatre says he didn't leave anything unfinished."

"Okay, let's say for one minute, I believe this...bizarre story," Duo said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Then I know what Quatre's unfinished business is."

"Really?" Trowa questioned, glancing at Quatre, who'd gone white. "What is it?"

"Nuh-uh," Duo said, shaking his finger at Trowa. "I'm not telling you. It's Quatre's business, not mine. He'll tell you what it is when he's ready. I must be as crazy as you. I'm actually starting to buy this story."

"Thanks, Duo," Trowa patted him on the shoulder.

"Look," Duo said. "I'll cover for you at work for the next week or so, you take it easy. Sometime this evening, they'll probably make the announcement about Quatre's death, so why don't you come over to my place to watch it?"

"Alright, I'll come by after you get off work."

"Fine. See you then." With that, Duo left. Trowa turned to Quatre, who'd slumped onto the couch and put his head in his hands. Trowa sat down beside him.

"Do you really know what you left undone?" he asked.

"Yes," Quatre mumbled through his fingers.

"Will you tell me?"

"No."

"Why not? I'm just trying to help you move on."

Something inside Quatre snapped. "Are you trying to get rid of me?!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "Am I bothering you that much?!"

"No, Quatre," Trowa started, also getting to his feet.

"Shut up!" Quatre screamed. "I don't want to hear this from you! I'm leaving!"

"Wait, Quatre," Trowa said, but it was too late, Quatre had simply disappeared. Trowa waited for a few hours, but Quatre didn't show up.

"I guess I'd better see if I can find him," he decided. He grabbed his jacket and left the apartment.

******************************************

Trowa searched all over the Sanc Kingdom capitol, but Quatre was nowhere to be found. At 17:00(5pm), he was waiting for Duo outside the Preventer's office building. Duo came out about 30 minutes later and didn't seem surprised to see Trowa there.

"Hey, Trowa," he greeted. Trowa fell into step beside Duo, but didn't say anything.

"You're quieter than usual," Duo mentioned, as his apartment building came into view.

"Quatre and I fought after you left this morning and now he's off pouting like a little kid." Trowa explained.

"Is it because of what I said? About knowing what Quatre's unfinished business is?"

"I don't know. I asked what it was, but he wouldn't tell me. I told him I just wanted to help him move on and he started screaming at me. Then he left."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "You actually told him you wanted him to move on?"

"That's not what I said."

"But that's probably how he took it." Duo said unlocking his door and pushing it open. Trowa followed him inside and thought about how his words had sounded to Quatre.

"I'm not trying to get rid of him," he said. "I just hate to see him like this. The truth is I know that once he's resolved this, he's going to leave me and I don't want that." He felt a pricking at the corner of his eyes and Duo stared at him in shock.

"Are you crying, Trowa?" he demanded.

"Don't say such stupid things, Duo." Trowa responded, brushing angrily at his eyes.

"You two, I swear..." Duo laughed and shook his head. He flipped on the TV and sat down on the floor in front of it. Trowa didn't question him further. He perched on the edge of a chair and stared at the screen. A woman was standing in front of what might once have been an elegant building, but was now just a pile of rubble.

"If you're just joining us," the reporter said. "We are on the scene of yesterday's deadly earthquake in London. Behind me, you can see the remains of the Grand State Hotel, which received the worst of the damage. Many prominent businessmen and women were staying here, along with many famous actors and actresses. Only 165 survivors have been found. We've been told not to expect that number to rise. The official death toll stands at 244, but over 700 people are still missing and are presumed dead. The most tragic of these deaths, is the death of 18-year-old Quatre Raberba Winner, former Gundam pilot-turned-pacifist. Other notable deaths include actress..."

The woman on TV kept talking, listing all the people who were killed, but Trowa had stopped listening after the part about Quatre. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks and noticed that Duo was also crying. They cried silently for what seemed like hours, the TV droning on in the background. Finally Duo reached out and turned it off.

"It seems so unreal that a Gundam pilot could die from such an ordinary thing like an earthquake," he said, wiping his tears away. Trowa got to his feet.

"I'm going home, Duo," he said. Duo walked him to the door.

"You going to be okay?" he asked.

"I don't know, Duo. I really don't." Trowa answered and then left. He made his way back to his apartment and was surprised to see Quatre sitting on the ground outside his door. He had his knees pulled up to his chin and his forehead rested against them.

"Quatre?" Trowa whispered. Quatre's head snapped up, revealing the tears that streamed down his face.

"I...I saw the report...on TV. I really am dead!" he cried, his grief-stricken blue eyes staring up at Trowa, who knelt down in front of him.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Quatre," he said.

"I don't want to be dead!" Quatre sobbed, letting his head fall forward again.

"Shh, Quatre," Trowa soothed, reaching out his hand to stroke Quatre's hair. When his hand met empty air, he was expecting it, but, pretending that he could still feel Quatre's soft hair under his fingers, he kept it up.

"I can feel that," Quatre announced.

"You can?" Trowa asked incredulously.

"Yeah, but not like I could when I was alive. It's more like a breeze blowing across my hair. It feels nice."

"Why don't we go inside, Quatre?" Trowa suggested several minutes later. "I promise I won't ask you about it again."

"Alright," Quatre agreed. "And I promise I'll tell you what it is when I'm ready."

"Deal." Trowa opened the door and they went inside.

********************************************

The next few days passed uneventfully. After being told they weren't welcome at Quatre's funeral by his sisters, the ex-Gundam pilots and others who knew Quatre during the war held their own private memorial service for their friend. At first Quatre refused to go, saying it would be way too weird, but in the end he did go and bawled like a baby during each of his friends' speeches. After the memorial service, life went back to, almost, normal. Trowa returned to work and Quatre went with him. It made Trowa's job much easier since nobody else could see Quatre.

Then, nearly three weeks to the day that he'd first appeared, Quatre started feeling strange. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his time with Trowa was at an end and he decided it was time to tell Trowa about the reason he couldn't move on. He waited until they were back at Trowa's apartment before bringing it up.

"I'm ready to tell you now," he announced as soon as Trowa had shut the front door. Trowa looked up sharply, not needing Quatre to elaborate further.

"Why now?" he asked.

"Something is calling me and it's time for me to leave," Quatre explained.

"You can't leave!" Trowa cried.

"I don't have a choice, Trowa," Quatre said, sadly. "And I want you to know what my unfinished business was. It was you, Trowa. You were my unfinished business."

"Me? Why?"

"Do you remember when the Vayeate was getting ready to explode?"

"Of course."

"It was right at that moment that I realized I loved you," Quatre confessed.

Trowa froze and stared at Quatre. "Huh? What? Did you just say you love me?"

"I'm sorry, Trowa. It's a really lousy time to tell you this, since I'm dead, but I really wanted you to know." Quatre said. "I wanted to tell you so often, when I was alive, but I never had the courage. You were the last thing on my mind before I died. That's why I ended up here with you."

"I..." Trowa's mind went blank as he tried to comprehend what Quatre had just said.

"Please, Trowa, say something," Quatre pleaded after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm just surprised, Quatre," Trowa said, looking down at his hands. "The truth is, I really..."

"Trowa," Quatre interrupted. Trowa looked up at him. Quatre was completely see-through and fading quickly. His blue eyes, filled now with peace, met Trowa's green, confused eyes.

"Quatre?"

"It's time for me to go," Quatre said calmly. "I'm ready to move on now. Goodbye, Trowa."

"Don't go, Quatre," Trowa begged, tears streaming down his face. Quatre tried to say something, but Trowa couldn't hear him and then, he was gone.

"QUATREEE!" Trowa screamed, falling to his knees. "NOOOOOO!" He slammed his fists onto the floor. He knelt there on the floor and sobbed brokenly for hours. Finally, the sound of the telephone ringing dragged Trowa back into reality. He grabbed the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Yeah?" he mumbled.

"Trowa?" It was Duo. "Are you alright? You sound awful."

"Duo," Trowa felt the tears welling up again. "He's gone, Duo! He's gone! What am I going to do?"

"Trowa?!"

"What am I going to do?" he repeated, tears falling freely.

"Trowa, hang on," Duo ordered. "I'm on my way."

************************************************

For the next two weeks, Trowa laid in bed, on Quatre's side where he could still smell Quatre's cologne, and refused to talk. Duo checked on him everyday. On his second visit, he discovered that Trowa wasn't eating. He called Catherine Bloom and she hurried to her brother's side. She made sure he ate everyday and took care of the apartment. At the beginning of the third week, Trowa started eating on his own, but since he wouldn't leave the apartment, Catherine had to stick around to do his grocery shopping. After a month and a half, Trowa returned to work and Catherine went back to the circus, but it was another month before he started talking again. And then he only talked when it was absolutely necessary and only as much as it took to make his point, but everybody took it as a good sign. Trowa knew better. He knew he would never ever be the same. Not even when he'd first sat in the cockpit of Heavyarms had he felt this empty.

Then, one evening, three months after Quatre had left, Trowa found himself alone at the Preventer's office. He was typing up his report on that day's bodyguarding job and had stayed later than he'd meant to. Everybody else had left, leaving him the task of locking up for the night. So he was surprised when he heard his office door open and someone come into the room. He waited for the person to speak, but when they didn't, he turned his chair around on its swivel base to see who was there and felt his heart stop beating.

"What's wrong, Trowa? You look like you've seen a ghost," Quatre Raberba Winner observed, pushing his hair aside to reveal a nearly healed scar that started above his right eye and disappeared into his hair.

"Qua...Quatre?" Trowa stuttered. He got to his feet and, feeling like he was in a dream, he crossed the room to stand in front of Quatre. Suddenly his heart was beating again, fast and loud. He reached out with his hand and touched Quatre's cheek. Quatre leaned his head against Trowa's hand and smiled up at him, tears sparkling in his eyes.

"I'm home, Trowa," he said softly. Trowa pulled Quatre into his arms and buried his face in Quatre's hair. He held him tightly and breathed in the cologne that had long since dissipated from his apartment.

"Trowa?" Quatre murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if we sit down? I'm really hurting."

"Hurting? Where?"

"My leg," Quatre answered. Trowa swept him up into his arms and carried him over to the couch that Sally Po had insisted be put in every office. He placed Quatre down carefully and then sat beside him. He looked over Quatre and was worried at the changes he saw. Quatre had lost weight and his face was thinner, making his eyes look huge. His hair was shorter than it had been before and he was very pale, though that could have been from the pain.

"What happened to your leg?" Trowa asked. Quatre leaned forward and rolled up his left pant leg above the knee. He stretched his leg out so Trowa could see it. On the inside of his leg, a scar ran from just above his knee down to his ankle. Numerous other scars dotted his leg.

"When the hotel collapsed, my leg was trapped under part of the floor. The doctor said he'd thought they might have to amputate it to save me, but in the end they didn't have to," Quatre explained, pulling his pant leg back down. "I've just got to the point where I can walk without a cane. I had to take a pain killer just to get up here."

"You should have called. I would have met you in the lobby."

"I wanted to surprise you." Quatre laid his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. Trowa slipped his arm around Quatre and pulled him close. Quatre moved his head and rested it on Trowa's shoulder. Trowa watched him sleep and wondered if maybe this was all a dream. Perhaps he'd finally gone off the deep end and was having hallucinations. He leaned his head against Quatre's and decided he didn't care either way. Some time later, he heard footsteps on the floor outside his office.

"Trowa, are you still here?" came Duo's voice. "I saw the light on and I was worried about you."

"Don't be so noisy, Duo," Trowa said. Duo popped into the room and skidded to a stop in front of Trowa and Quatre.

"Oh, wow," he breathed. "It's...it's Quatre! But how?"

"I don't know," Trowa admitted. "I think his pain pill knocked him out though. He's going to catch a cold sleeping here like this. Will you help me get him back to my apartment?"

"Sure." Duo agreed. Trowa scooped Quatre up and headed out of the office. Duo followed behind him, shutting off the computer and the light. He grabbed Trowa's keys from the top of the desk and hurried after them. Outside Trowa's office, a duffle bag leaned against the wall.

"I bet that's Quatre's," Trowa said. "It wasn't there earlier at any rate."

Duo picked it up and they left the Preventer's building, carefully locking the door behind them. When they reached Trowa's apartment, Duo unlocked the door and turned on the light. Trowa laid Quatre on the bed, carefully took off his shoes and pulled the covers up around him, noting with some satisfaction that Quatre's head left a dent in the pillow. Duo tossed Quatre's bag onto the couch and started for the door.

"I'm going to go now," he said, feeling like a third wheel. "I'll cover for you tomorrow at work."

"Alright. Thanks a lot, Duo," Trowa turned to face him. "Why don't you let everyone know that Quatre's back?"

"I can handle that." Duo grinned and let himself out of the apartment. Trowa stared down at Quatre's sleeping face and it took him several minutes before he realized he was crying. He let the tears fall and felt them wash away the emptiness, loneliness and heartache he'd been feeling.

****************************************

The next morning, Quatre woke up and wondered where he was. The last thing he remembered was showing Trowa his leg. After a minute he recognized Trowa's bed sheets and realized he was in Trowa's apartment. Then he realized he wasn't alone in the bed. He carefully turned over and found himself staring at Trowa, who was still sound asleep lying on top of the blankets. Quatre's breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded. Had they slept like this all night? Sure he remembered that while he was a wandering spirit they had slept in the same bed, but that was different. Just then, Trowa's eyes opened. He met Quatre's eyes and smiled.

"Good morning, Quatre," Trowa mumbled.

"Uh...good, uh...morning, Trowa." Quatre returned, hating how breathless he sounded.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." Quatre sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, refusing to look at Trowa. Trowa sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, stretching his legs out in front of him. The silence seemed deafening.

"Quatre, what happened after you left here?" Trowa finally asked.

"I woke up in a hospital bed," Quatre answered. "Nobody knew who I was and I didn't tell them."

"Why didn't anybody know who you are? How come you didn't tell them? How come you didn't contact me?"

"When I got to the hospital, my hair was full of blood, my face was covered in cuts and bruises and I was unconscious. I didn't even look like myself. They had to shave off my hair to take care of my head," Quatre traced the scar on his face with his fingertips. "There's a picture of what I looked like in my bag. They took it in hopes that someone might be able to identify me. After I came to I didn't tell anyone who I was for the same reason I didn't contact you. It was vanity and pride. I didn't want anybody, especially you, to see me looking so ugly. Although pretty much everybody had figured out who I was before I left."

"I wouldn't have cared what you looked like, Quatre. I would have just been happy you were alive."

"I know, and that's where my pride kicked in," Quatre said, keeping his eyes trained on the wall.

"Huh?" Trowa asked, completely confused.

"In case you don't remember, I confessed to you and you didn't reply. I was afraid that you thought I was disgusting."

"What?" Trowa gasped. Then he surprised Quatre by grabbing him around the waist and tugging him back into his arms. "Why would I think you're disgusting?"

"Because I'm in love with you, a GUY."

"So? It's not that uncommon. Gays are even allowed to get married. Besides, your confession shocked me and I didn't have time to give you a reply before you vanished into thin air."

"So what is your reply?" Quatre asked, finally meeting Trowa's eyes.

"Do you know how long I've loved you?" Trowa asked instead. Quatre's eyes widened and he shook his head. "I think it must have been love at first sight. You'd just saved my life and I'd attacked you. I really meant to kill you, but you stopped fighting me. Then you jumped out of Sandrock's cockpit and told me we shouldn't be fighting each other. My first thought was that you were either very brave or very stupid. But you looked so cute standing there with your goggles on your forehead and that serious look on your face. It was the first time in my life I'd ever wanted to lose. That's why I surrendered to you."

"Are you lying to me?" Quatre demanded.

"Does it look like I am?" Trowa asked. He dropped his head and kissed Quatre lightly on the lips.

"But, but, but," Quatre stammered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Trowa countered.

"I was afraid to tell you, afraid you wouldn't want anything else to do with me."

"I'd spent my whole life alone and had been betrayed in the past. I was afraid to trust you at first and then I too was afraid you'd leave me."

"Even if I didn't love you, I'd never leave you." Quatre assured him. He put his hand on the back of Trowa's head and pulled his head down, so he could kiss him. Trowa gathered him closer and deepened the kiss. Suddenly the phone rang and they both jumped.

"Let's ignore it," Trowa suggested.

"It could be important." Quatre pointed out.

"It's probably Duo. I told him he could tell the others that you were alive. I'm sure they'll want to see you with their own eyes."

"Then let's go see them." Quatre said, climbing off the bed and heading for the phone. Trowa watched him answer the phone and talk excitedly to the person on the other end. He heard Quatre agree to meet for lunch at Relena's place and then he hung up the phone.

"We're supposed to meet everybody at Relena's for lunch," he informed Trowa, picking up his bag from the couch.

"I heard," Trowa said.

"Do you mind if I borrow your shower and a towel?"

"No, go ahead. What's mine is yours."

"Thanks, Trowa," Quatre headed for the bathroom, but stopped outside the door and turned back to look at Trowa. "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Well," Quatre bit his lip and looked slightly embarrassed. "You seemed to want the day to be just us and I made plans for us instead."

Trowa crossed the room and wrapped Quatre in his arms. "No, Quatre, I'm not mad. I've waited 3 years to be with you. I think I can wait a little longer to be alone with you."

"I promise, Trowa, tomorrow we'll spend all day together. Just the two of us." Quatre said.

"It's a date then." Trowa agreed. Then they sealed the promise with a kiss.

THE END


	3. Together Forever

This is the third part of a four-part series. The order of the stories is:

_San Francisco Night_

_Angel's Spirit_

_Together Forever_

_When You're Gone_

Disclaimer: Some nice people in Japan own these characters, not me.

Together Forever

By Megan Hardman

AC 198

In a hospital in London, a young man lay on a hard, uncomfortable bed, in a bare white room, fighting for his life. He was a survivor of the large earthquake that had hit London a couple of weeks before. When he'd been brought in, the doctor in the ER had declared him a lost cause, but another doctor had argued and won. He, and his team, had worked hard to stabilize the boy, but the outlook wasn't good. The boy's head had been sliced open to the skull and his leg, which had been trapped under a portion of the hotel's floor, was completely shattered. In fact, the doctor had wanted to amputate, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. The boy also had several broken ribs, a punctured lung and a serious concussion. Somehow a miracle had occurred and they'd managed to keep him alive until he was stable. For the next two weeks, they'd kept him in ICU in a drug-induced coma in order for his body to heal. Finally the doctor announced that he was well enough to be brought out of the coma. Then the waiting time began. A nurse stayed with him at all times, so he wouldn't be alone when he woke up. But the days slowly passed and the boy didn't wake up. The doctor worried about the damage the boy had received to his brain and wondered whether the boy would ever wake up.

********************************************

Quatre Raberba Winner moaned as he became aware of just how much his body hurt. Pain radiated from every part of his body and even breathing hurt. Wasn't being dead supposed to be painless? He forced his eyes open, but bright sunlight made him shut them again. He tried to move, but found that he couldn't. Where in the world was he?

"Are you awake?" a feminine voice asked from nearby. Was she talking to him? Quatre slit his eyes open and looked up. A young woman in blue scrubs stood over him.

"Where," Quatre whispered, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Where...am...I?"

"Don't try to talk," the woman said. "You're in the hospital."

"Hospital?" he managed to get out.

"Hush!" the woman ordered. "Yes, you're in a hospital in London. Hang on while I call the doctor."

The woman hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Quatre took the time alone to access his situation. He appeared to be tied down to the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in a bandage, he could feel more bandages around his torso and his left leg was in a cast. His door opened and the same nurse came in, carrying a glass of water. She set the water down on a small table that was meant to go over the bed and approached him.

"The doctor said I can release you now," she explained as she took off the restraints from around his arms and right leg. "We kept you like this so you wouldn't injure yourself while you were unconscious." Quatre held his breath to keep from crying out in pain as she raised the head of his bed up. She pulled the table over and across the bed.

"Here, drink this," she said, picking up the water and holding it to his lips. He drank obligingly and felt much better afterwards.

"Thank you," he said. Just then, his door opened again and a man came in. The man had brown hair, brown eyes and he wore a white lab coat.

"Hello, boy," the man said. "My name is Peter Townsend. I'm the doctor in charge of your case."

"Hello, Dr. Townsend." Quatre greeted. The nurse backed away from the bed to stand near the door and the doctor came forward to sit in the chair by the bed.

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you," he said.

"Okay." Quatre agreed.

"First of all, do you know where you're at?"

"A hospital in London."

"Hmm," the doctor made a note on the clipboard in his hand. "Do you know what year it is?"

"After Colony 198."

"What was the name of the hotel you were staying at?"

"Grand State."

"What's the last thing you remember?" the doctor inquired, looking up at him expectantly. Quatre stared at him and wondered how he should answer that one. The last thing he remembered was, of course, his confession to Trowa Barton, but there was no way the doctor was going to believe that nor did Quatre want to tell him about it.

"I remember getting ready to go down to supper and the hotel shaking," he answered finally. He glanced away from Dr. Townsend and spotted a mirror across from the bed. What he saw reflected in the mirror made him gasp in shock. The boy looking out from the mirror looked nothing like Quatre. His face was thin and covered in bruises. The bandage wrapped around his head made him look even stranger. Shaking, Quatre reached up and started unwinding the bandage.

"You shouldn't do that," the nurse said, taking a step forward, but the doctor waved her back. The two watched in silence as the bandage loosened enough to fall off. Quatre stared at himself in the mirror and felt tears come to his eyes. He'd never been a vain person, but this was just too much. His beautiful blond hair was all gone and staples held together a large cut that started above his right eye and continued to the back of his head. He was ugly.

"Are you alright, boy?" the doctor asked. He motioned for the nurse to come and take away the mirror. She reached up to take it off the wall.

"No, leave it." Quatre ordered.

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Yes, I am," Quatre said. "Could you give me some time alone, please?"

"As you wish," the doctor said, getting to his feet. Dr. Townsend and the nurse left the room, leaving Quatre alone with his thoughts.

***********************************************

When the doctor returned a couple of hours later, Quatre, who'd come to terms with his looks and had also had a nap, felt calmer and more in control. Ready to answer any questions the doctor might throw at him. Dr. Townsend checked him over thoroughly before taking a seat.

"You are healing nicely and your brain seems to be functioning normally," he told Quatre. "I'm planning on removing the staples sometime in the next day or two. Your hair should grow back quickly and cover most of the scar that you'll have. The swelling and bruises will probably be completely gone in another week. As for your leg, the cast will come off in three weeks and you'll need extensive physical therapy, but I think you'll be able to walk on it again."

"Thank you, Dr. Townsend," Quatre said.

The doctor watched him carefully as he asked the question that needed to be asked. "What is your name, kid?"

Quatre kept his face neutral and answered calmly. "I'd prefer not to say, but if you must call me something, call me No-name."

"Why can't I know who you are, No-name?"

"Because you'd feel obligated to tell someone where I'm at and I don't want anybody to know that."

"I'm going to discharge you after your cast comes off, so you'll have to tell me your name then."

"That's fine." Quatre nodded.

"Since you won't tell me your name, can you at least tell me where you're from?"

"The colonies."

"Which colony?"

"I can't tell you that either."

"Is there anything you can tell me?"

"I'm 18. Other than that? No."

The doctor sighed in frustration and stood up. "Fine. I won't force you to tell me. I'll be back in the morning to check on you."

Quatre watched him leave and leaned back against his pillow. He felt guilty about not telling the doctor who he was, but he didn't want anybody to see him looking so awful. Deep in his heart, he knew that if Trowa heard he was alive, he would come to see him and Quatre couldn't stand that thought. After all, Trowa hadn't given him an answer to his confession. Perhaps Trowa thought he was disgusting.

"Trowa doesn't think that," Quatre reprimanded himself. Angrily he jabbed the button to turn on the TV and a cartoon show filled the screen. He changed the channel to a news channel and forced all thoughts of Trowa Barton from his mind.

Hours later, the TV was off and the hospital was deathly quiet. Quatre was supposed to be sleeping, but he couldn't seem to relax and get comfortable. He felt lonely and abandoned. When had he gotten so used to having someone beside him at night? He'd given up on getting any sleep that night, when a nurse came in to check on him.

"Are you hurting?" she asked.

"No, I just can't sleep." Quatre replied.

"Would you like a sleeping pill?"

"Can I have one?"

"I'll ask your doctor if you can." She left the room and returned less than 30 minutes later with a sleeping pill. It didn't take long for the pill to take effect and soon Quatre dropped off to sleep.

********************************************

The next day, Quatre was moved from ICU to a private room. After checking his head wound carefully, the doctor removed the staples. A few days later the doctor's words proved true when Quatre noticed his head was covered in blond fuzz. By the time the cast came off his leg, his hair was almost an inch long.

During those three weeks, Quatre thought about Trowa almost continually and had come to the conclusion that Trowa was probably glad he was gone, so he didn't have to give his answer. Which, Quatre decided, would have been "Sorry, I can't return your feelings". It strengthened his resolve not to tell anyone who he was, because he didn't want to hear that from Trowa. But every night he had to take sleeping pills. All in all, it was wreaking havoc on his mental health to the point that Dr. Townsend had to give him antidepressants.

"What are you going to do when I release you from the hospital, No-name?" Dr. Townsend inquired the day Quatre's cast came off. "You're living on sleeping pills and antidepressants and you have no one to take care of you."

"I don't know," Quatre answered honestly. "I'm still not ready for anyone to know I'm alive."

"I have a proposition for you," the doctor said. "My wife and I have already discussed it and she agreed. Why don't you come and stay with us after you're released? Just until your physical therapy is over or until you decide it's time to leave."

"Really? You really don't mind?" Quatre asked.

"No, we don't mind," Dr. Townsend met Quatre's eyes. "I also promise not to tell anyone who you are, Quatre Winner."

"When did you figure it out?" Quatre gasped.

"As soon as you opened your eyes. The Gundams and their pilots are well-liked around our house. In fact, you are my oldest daughter Madeline's favorite. She was very upset when they announced your death a few weeks ago."

"I was too," Quatre muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," Quatre said. "Sure, I'd love to stay at your house."

Quatre was released from the hospital that evening and accompanied Dr. Townsend to his house. Madeline was thrilled speechless at the fact that Quatre was still alive and she made it her job to take care of him and nurse him back to health. Every afternoon Mrs. Townsend drove him to his physical therapy appointment. After several weeks of rehab, Quatre could walk with the help of two canes and soon just one cane. Not a day went by that he didn't think about Trowa and, finally, he came to a decision. As soon as he was able to walk on his own, he would return to the Sanc Kingdom and face Trowa.

Three months after Quatre had woken up, he could walk on his own and his hair was almost as long as it had been. The wound on his head and the place where they'd done surgery on his left leg were nearly healed and the cuts and bruises were all gone. Somehow, even though the doctors and nurses at the hospital knew who he was, nobody else seemed to know that Quatre had survived, but it was just a matter of time. Now he was ready to return. After saying goodbye to the Townsends and getting final instructions from his therapist, Quatre hopped a bus, ticket courtesy of Dr. Townsend.

It was late in the evening when Quatre climbed off the bus in the Sanc Kingdom capitol. Suddenly he was attacked by nerves and almost got right back on, but the driver shut the door and drove off before he could. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and then headed for Trowa's apartment. On the way, he passed by the Preventer headquarters and noticed that a light was on in one of the second story offices. Could it be Trowa?

"No harm in checking, right?" Quatre decided. He pushed open the door and entered the darkened lobby. In the silence of the building, Quatre could hear the clacking of computer keys drifting down the stairs. Quatre sighed. After the long bus trip, his leg was cramping and aching. Unless he took a pain pill, he'd never make it up those stairs. He opened his duffle bag and dug out his pills and a bottle of water. After taking the pill, he sat down on the stairs to wait for it to kick in. He hadn't been sitting there for very long when his curiosity got the better of him. He limped up the stairs and neared the office door. He set his bag down near the door and then opened it slowly. His heart pounded as he saw Trowa sitting at his desk and he entered the room, leaving the door open behind him. All Quatre wanted to do was run across the room and throw himself into Trowa's arms, but he forced himself to stand still and not cry. After a few minutes that seemed to stretch into eternity, Trowa turned his chair around. As soon as his eyes fell on Quatre, his mouth fell open and all the color drained from his face.

"What's wrong, Trowa?" Quatre asked, struggling to keep his voice calm and pushing aside his bangs out of nervousness. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

*****************************************

The next day, Quatre wondered what he'd been so worried about. The world looked so bright and beautiful and Quatre felt like singing. Everything had worked out wonderfully. Trowa loved him! Not only that, but he hadn't needed a sleeping pill to sleep last night or an antidepressant to make it through the day. Nothing and nobody could take away this blissful, happy feeling. Or at least that's what he'd thought until they'd gotten back to Trowa's apartment. Then everything had fallen apart.

Earlier that day, Quatre and Trowa had met up with their friends at Relena's house for lunch so that everyone could see that Quatre was alive and well. They'd stayed longer than they'd meant to and it was almost 18:00(6pm) before they'd made it back to Trowa's. Quatre's leg was really bothering him, so he'd lain down on Trowa's bed after taking a pain pill. Trowa had sat on the bed beside him, lying back against the headboard, and they'd talked until Quatre had dozed off.

Trowa watched him sleep and reached out a hand to run it over the soft blond hair. He was still having a hard time believing that Quatre was really alive, but the scar on his face was proof enough. Trowa ran his finger carefully over the scar and Quatre moaned in his sleep, rubbing his head against the pillow. Just then someone started banging on the front door. Trowa got to his feet and crossed the room to the door.

"Hush or you'll wake Quatre," he ordered as he started to open the door, but whoever was on the other side shoved at the door, tearing it from Trowa's grasp and sending it slamming against the wall.

Quatre sat up in surprise. "What's going on?" he demanded. Into the room stalked a giant of a man. He wore an all black suit and he might have looked intimidating if the ones he was trying to intimidate weren't former Gundam pilots.

"Master Quatre!" the man cried, destroying his tough guy image. "So you are alive!"

Quatre climbed off the bed and stepped closer to the man, studying him intently. "Aram," he said, finally recognizing him. "What are you doing here?"

Aram held up a newspaper and Quatre and Trowa looked at it closely. _'Young Billionaire Still Alive After London Quake_' the headline declared. Below was a picture of Quatre standing in line at the bus terminal in London. The paper was dated for the day before.

"Master Quatre," Aram said, tucking the newspaper under his arm. "I've come to take you home. Your sisters are anxiously awaiting your return."

"I'm not going." Quatre said defiantly.

"I've been told to use force if necessary," Aram replied calmly. He placed his hand on his hip, effectively showing off the gun there.

"Fine," Quatre agreed, glaring at Aram. "I'll go."

"Wonderful, Master Quatre!" Aram cheered. "I'm giving you 5 minutes to get your stuff. I'll be waiting for you in the car."

Aram left the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. Quatre immediately started gathering up his things, stuffing them into his duffle bag. Trowa watched Quatre attentively, waiting for him to say something. Eventually, Quatre slowed down and turned to face Trowa.

"I'm sorry, Trowa," he apologized. "I know I said I'd spend tomorrow with you, but it looks like I'm going to have to postpone it."

"It's fine, Quatre," Trowa said, looking thoughtful. "Do you suppose your sisters would mind if you brought home a guest?"

"You want to come with me?" Quatre asked, his face breaking into a happy smile.

"Of course," Trowa replied, grabbing Quatre's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sure my sisters won't mind," Quatre said, returning the gesture. Trowa let go of Quatre's hand and quickly packed his own bag. Aram didn't look pleased to see Trowa getting into the car with Quatre, but he was wise enough not to say anything. He drove them to the airport, where they boarded the Winner family's personal shuttle and headed for the L4 colonies.

****************************************

"Is that your house, Quatre?" Trowa inquired the next afternoon, staring out the car window. Ahead of the car, a huge majestic house rose and towered above the buildings nearby.

"Yeah," Quatre answered. "But it's not my home."

Aram pulled up in front of the steps that lead to the front door and, grabbing their bags, the boys got out of the car. Aram drove away and they started up the stairs. For some reason, Trowa felt nervous and a little overwhelmed.

"What's wrong, Trowa?" Quatre asked, turning back to look at Trowa, who'd stopped walking without realizing it. Trowa met Quatre's eyes and Quatre smiled at him.

"Don't worry, Trowa. My sisters aren't scary," Quatre reached out and grasped Trowa's hand. "Besides, I'm with you, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Trowa smiled. Keeping a firm grip on Trowa's hand, Quatre led him the rest of the way up the stairs. Just as they neared the massive door, it was yanked open with tremendous force and out ran 5, nearly-identical, women. They looked so much like Quatre, that they could only be his sisters.

"Quatre!" they cried, rushing forward to hug their brother. Trowa let go of Quatre's hand when the smallest of the girls glared at him over Quatre's shoulder.

"It's so good to see you, Quatre!" the tallest girl said. "We were so glad to hear that you weren't dead."

"Who's your 'friend'?" the one that had glared at Trowa asked.

"This is my boyfriend, Trowa Barton." Quatre introduced, raising his chin defiantly. His sisters looked shocked and then swarmed over to Trowa. They walked around him and carefully looked him over.

"My name is Karen," the tallest one said.

"I'm Aliya."

"I'm Zoe."

"I'm Amy."

"And I'm Harmony," the smallest one said. "I'm Quatre's youngest sister."

"Nice to meet you all." Trowa said, bowing slightly.

Harmony leaned closer to Trowa and stared at him with unfriendly eyes. "You're not right for our Quatre," she whispered finally before straightening up and moving away from him.

The sisters clustered around Quatre again and practically dragged him into the house. Trowa followed them, but stopped in surprise just inside the door. The mansion was gorgeous and impressive. Trowa, who'd never had a problem blending in and acting like he belonged, felt out of place and awkward. He pushed aside his anxieties and hurried to catch up with Quatre and his sisters. Karen had opened a door near the stairs leading to the second floor and the group entered the room. It was a beautiful parlor with large floor-to-ceiling windows and antique furniture. Karen, Aliya and Zoe sat on one of the two couches while Amy and Harmony sat on the other. All that was left was an uncomfortable-looking settee which Quatre and Trowa took. After they'd sat down, Trowa noticed Quatre's pale face and knew he was hurting. The parlor door opened and a maid came in with tea.

While she poured the tea into cups and the sisters were distracted, Trowa took the opportunity to ask Quatre softly, "Are you all right?"

"It's just my leg. The shuttle ride was too long," Quatre replied. "By the way, what did Harmony say to you?"

"Nothing important."

"Are you sure? You looked upset."

"It's fine, Quatre. Nothing to worry about. I promise."

The maid approached the boys and handed each a cup of tea. While they drank their tea, Quatre's sisters badgered him with questions. Quatre finished his tea and set down his empty cup. Trowa watched his hand, saw that it was shaking slightly and made a decision.

"It's been a pleasure visiting with you young ladies," Trowa said when there was a pause in the conversation, getting to his feet and bowing low. "But the shuttle ride was very tiring. I was wondering if it might be possible to rest now."

Harmony glared at him again, but Karen got quickly to her feet. "Oh, my," she said. "I don't know what we were thinking. Of course you two would be tired. Quatre, I'm sure you remember where your room is. Just put Mr. Barton in the room next to yours."

"Yes, Karen." Quatre agreed. He got to his feet, picked up his bag from the floor and started across the parlor to the door. Trowa grabbed his own bag and went with him. When they reached the foot of the stairs, Quatre turned to look at Trowa.

"Thanks. I'm not sure how much longer I would have lasted."

"Can you make it up the stairs?"

Quatre eyed the stairs and shook his head. "I don't think so."

Trowa glanced around and, when he saw that they were alone, he scooped Quatre up into his arms. "Then I'll carry you to your room," he said, starting up the stairs.

"Thank you, Trowa," Quatre said. "When you get to the top of the stairs, turn left and my room is at the end of the hall."

Following Quatre's directions, Trowa quickly found his room. Quatre opened the door from his position in Trowa's arms and Trowa just about dropped him in surprise. Quatre's room was easily four times the size of Trowa's whole apartment. One side appeared to be a sitting area, with several comfy-looking chairs and a table, while the other side was obviously the bedroom half, with Quatre's large canopied bed positioned in the middle and a bedside table and dresser flanking it. Across from the door were glass doors leading out onto a large balcony.

"Wow!" Trowa exclaimed as he set Quatre down. "Now this is a bedroom! It's huge!"

Quatre glanced around before tossing his bag onto the bed. "I'd rather be back at your apartment, Trowa," he stated.

"Why?" Trowa asked incredulously. "This place is amazing!"

"Because your apartment feels more like my home than this place does," Quatre explained and looked sad. "I've never liked it here. It's too big and it's too...lonely."

"Lonely?"

"Yeah," Quatre said softly. He started to say something else, but just then Aram stuck his head into the room.

"Hello, Master Quatre," he said, grinning. He looked over at Trowa and his eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be in your own room, Mr. Barton?"

"He's fine where he's at, Aram." Quatre said firmly.

"Sorry, Master Quatre, but I don't take orders from you anymore and your sisters don't want him in your room." Aram said.

"But..."Quatre started.

"It's all right, Quatre," Trowa interrupted. "I don't want your sisters mad at me, so I'll go to my own room now. It's next door right?"

"Yes," Aram answered.

"Thank you, Aram. Goodnight, Quatre." Trowa swept past Aram who followed him to make sure he really went to his room. Trowa entered his room and found it to be just as grandiose as Quatre's, minus the balcony. Before he shut the door, he noticed that Aram had closed Quatre's door and was leaning against the wall between their doors. Trowa laughed quietly to himself as he dropped his bag onto his bed. Quatre's sisters were pretty smart, but they'd underestimated him. He opened the window and climbed out it. Then, standing on the ledge, he took a deep breath and jumped onto Quatre's balcony, where Quatre was already waiting.

"Hello again," Quatre greeted. "I knew you'd come this way."

"Your sisters need to learn more about me if they think some bodyguard is going to keep me away from you." Trowa said.

"My sisters don't understand determination." Quatre said as they went inside his room. Quatre drew back the covers on the bed and lay down, stretching his legs out with a weary sigh.

"Did you take a pain pill?" Trowa asked, sitting beside Quatre and reclining against the headboard.

"Yeah. It should kick in soon," Quatre replied. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep, Trowa?"

"Of course I will."

"Thanks." Quatre murmured, slipping his hand into Trowa's. Trowa rubbed the back of Quatre's hand with his thumb and watched Quatre visibly relax.

"Earlier, what did you mean when you said this place was lonely?" Trowa inquired. "I know you told me before that most of your sisters didn't live here, but some of them did, didn't they? And what about your father?"

"My family's never been close," Quatre admitted. "We've never done anything together as a family and I've always felt like I was only grown to be my father's heir, not to be someone's son. I've never really felt loved at all. Did you know, in the last two days, you've given me more affection than my family has in the last 18 years? That's the reason I said this place is lonely."

"I'm sorry, Quatre," Trowa said, pulling Quatre into his arms. "I'll stay with you, so you'll never be lonely again."

"You may change your mind one of these days."

"No, I won't. I promise, Quatre," Trowa said softly. "I will always want you near me and I will always love you."

"I'll always love you too, Trowa." Quatre returned, raising his head so Trowa could kiss him.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah?"

"Would you marry me?"

"Marry?" Trowa exclaimed.

"Yes, marry," Quatre confirmed. "You're the one that gave me the idea."

Trowa stared at Quatre for the span of several seconds before asking, "Is that a proposal or a question?"

"Well, I don't have a ring, but I definitely meant it as a proposal."

"Wow, Quatre, you don't mess around, do you?"

"Not when I'm serious."

"So you're serious about me?"

"Of course I am."

"Are you sure? I don't know who I am or where I come from. My name isn't even my own."

"I don't care about those things, Trowa. I know who you are and I know where you belong. You are the love of my life and you belong by my side. Anyway, if you marry me, at least part of your name will be your own," Quatre said. "So I'll ask you again. Will you marry me?"

"When you put it that way, how can I say no?"

"Is that a yes?"

"It is."

"Really?" Quatre questioned.

"Really." Trowa confirmed, drawing him closer and kissing him again. Quatre eagerly returned his kisses.

"I'm so happy." Quatre sighed, laying his head on Trowa's chest. His eyes slid shut and he drifted off, listening to Trowa's heartbeat.

"I'm happy too, Quatre." Trowa whispered, stroking Quatre's hair.

**************************************

Early the next morning, the bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall and jolting Trowa and Quatre awake. Five loud gasps confirmed who the culprits were.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Karen demanded, her voice so high it was almost inaudible. She stormed across the room and yanked Trowa from the bed.

"Karen, stop it!" Quatre ordered as he sat up, but she ignored him and tightened her grip on Trowa's arm.

"I spent all night doing research on you, Trowa Barton, or should I say No-name," she seethed. "Do you really think I'm going to allow a nameless brat like you to get close to Quatre?"

"Karen, stop this now," Quatre warned, getting out of bed and coming to stand beside Trowa.

"I want you out of this house now," Karen said, pushing Trowa towards the door and letting go of his arm.

"He's not going anywhere," Quatre stated. "He's my fiance and I won't let you treat him this way."

"Fian..." Karen gasped and her face turned red.

"Aram!" Harmony shouted. Aram came running into the room and Harmony motioned to Trowa. "Throw him out!"

"As you wish, Miss Harmony," Aram marched across the room and grabbed Trowa.

"If Trowa leaves, I do too." Quatre declared.

"Don't worry, Misses Winner," Trowa said, easily flipping Aram onto his back. Quatre's sisters stared at him in amazement. "I'll leave. The circus my sister is part of, just happens to be on this colony so I shall go visit her, but I'll warn you now, nobody, not even you five, will keep me from seeing my Quatre whenever I want to."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Barton?" Aliya asked.

"No, that's a promise." Trowa replied. Then, turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room.

"I can't believe you did that," Quatre snapped at his sisters. "I want you to apologize to him right now."

"Can't you see he's not good enough for you?" Zoe said.

"We're doing this for your own good, Quatre." Amy stated.

"If you really cared about was good for me, you wouldn't have treated Trowa like that. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me." Quatre said. He hurried after Trowa and caught up with him at the stairs.

"Please, don't go, Trowa," he begged, slipping his hand into Trowa's free one.

"I think it's better if I do, Quatre," Trowa said. "Your sisters don't like me and they're making it very uncomfortable for me. I think I'll stay with Cathy for awhile. You can come visit me anytime you want to and I'll definitely come visit you."

"I'm sorry it turned out like this," Quatre sighed.

"It's not your fault, Quatre," Trowa reassured him. "I promise I'll come back to see you tonight."

"I'll be waiting." Quatre said. Trowa leaned down and kissed him gently.

"Goodbye, Quatre," he whispered. "I love you."

"Goodbye. I love you too, Trowa," Quatre returned.

Trowa went down the stairs and left the mansion. It didn't take him long to find the circus, which conveniently wasn't too far away from Quatre's. He easily found Catherine Bloom's trailer and sat down on the steps to wait for her. He did some serious thinking while he was waiting and had, consequently, come up with a plan before Cathy approached her trailer an hour later.

"Trowa, is that you?" Cathy demanded, rushing up to the trailer.

"Hi, Cathy," Trowa smiled. "Do you mind if I stay with you for awhile?"

"Of course I don't mind, but what are you doing here? What happened? The last time I saw you, you were so depressed," she said.

"That's right," Trowa mused. The last time he'd seen Cathy was when he had thought Quatre was dead. She wouldn't know that he was really alive.

"Boy, Cathy, wait until I tell you what's been going on," he said. "But before I do that, I have a favor to ask of you."

"What kind of favor?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Do you remember when you told me that I was really your brother Triton?"

"Yes," she said slowly, wondering what he was getting at.

"How would you like to know that for sure?"

"Huh?!"

"Would you take a DNA test with me, Cathy? I want to know who I am."

***************************************

Over at the Winner house, Quatre's sisters and another woman had gathered in their secret room on the top floor. The room was empty, except for one chair and a table, and had no windows. The walls were covered in monitor panels and the only light came from a single lamp sitting on the table. They stood around it and discussed the current situation.

"We must keep that brat away from Quatre," Amy stated.

"Yes, but how?" Aliya inquired. "He's already proven to be more of a problem than we had anticipated. Aram is our strongest bodyguard and that kid defeated him so easily."

"We need to hire a stronger person." Karen said.

"But who's stronger than a former Gundam pilot?" Zoe wanted to know.

"Another Gundam pilot," the sixth member of their secret meeting spoke up. The others looked at her curiously. "Lady Une started the Preventers. Most of the former Gundam pilots have joined. If we hire one of them, they won't have any trouble keeping Trowa away from Quatre."

"But how are we going to do that? We can't tell them the truth or they'd never agree to it."

"Let me handle it," the girl said, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "For now, let's talk about our other plan."

They leaned in closer together and lowered their voices. They didn't want anyone to overhear their devious plan. Shut up in his room on the second floor, Quatre had no idea that just above him, his future was being mapped out for him, but soon he would and by then it would be too late to stop it.

****************************************

That night, Trowa tried every way he could think of to see Quatre, but he couldn't even get close to the house. Quatre's sisters had posted dozens of guards, shoulder-to-shoulder, all the way around the house. Trowa finally gave up and returned to the circus. The next day he tried again to no avail. On the second day, he received a phone call from Lady Une.

"It took me awhile to find you, Trowa Barton," she said instead of greeting him.

"Hello, Lady Une. Do you need me to come back?"

"Actually your next assignment is on the colony you're at now. You've been hired to play bodyguard by the Winner family. Seems they're having trouble with a certain persistent person. You wouldn't happen to know who they're talking about, would you?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I figured it was you, Barton."

"So why are they hiring me?"

"Technically they're not hiring you. They wanted a Gundam pilot and you're the only one available at the moment. Your orders are to guard Quatre for the next few weeks until they reinstate him as the head of the Winner family. You report for duty in the morning. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Trowa said and hung up the phone, laughing. Quatre's sisters certainly were gullible. Now he could spend as much time as he wanted with Quatre and nobody could say anything about it.

****************************************

Quatre's fingers danced across the ivory keys and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't slept in two days, because he'd forgotten his sleeping pills at Trowa's. Playing the piano was the only thing keeping him sane and he escaped to his music room every chance he got. Surprisingly his sisters left him alone much of the time and never bothered him when he was in his music room.

Quatre sighed again as his fingers finished the piece. Something wasn't right around this house. It had started as soon as Trowa was out the door. His sisters kept looking at him oddly and asking weird questions. When they weren't bugging him, they were ignoring him. He'd noticed the guards that surrounded the house day and night and that Aram was always right behind him. All in all, it was really starting to irk him.

Quatre closed the lid over the piano keys and got to his feet. He crossed the room and looked out the window. Down below he could see the guards talking to each other. Knowing it was almost time for the shift change, he had an idea.

Checking to make sure Aram was still outside the music room, Quatre carefully opened the window and climbed up on the sill. Just below the window was a large bush that easily, and quietly, cushioned his fall. Then, hiding in the same bush, he waited. During the shift change, Quatre would have exactly 2 minutes to get across the yard and out the gate before the new guards showed up. This should be a piece of cake for an ex-Gundam pilot. He watched the guards start towards the house and, as soon as they were out of sight, he made a mad dash for the gate. Somehow he made it without being seen, but he was surprised to see the gate shut and locked. He looked around quickly and decided the only way out was up and over the fence. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself at the fence and scrambled up it. When he got to the top, he dropped off the other side and, his bad leg giving out, landed hard on his knee on the pavement. He got slowly to his feet and, limping, he hurried away from the house in what he hoped was the right direction.

*****************************************

Trowa whistled as he busied himself around Cathy's trailer, feeling happier than he had in days. It felt like it had been months since he'd last seen Quatre instead of just two days, but tomorrow they'd finally be together again. Not only that, but Cathy had agreed to the DNA test and they'd taken it today. They would receive the results, and, Trowa hoped the answer to his past, in a week.

Just then, someone knocked on the trailer door. "I'm coming!" Trowa called, heading for the door. He opened it and was shocked to see Quatre standing there.

"Quatre! What are you doing here?" Trowa asked, looking him over. He looked awful, covered in scratches and streaked with dirt. He even had leaves in his hair. Trowa reached out and brushed them away.

"I've got to talk to you, Trowa." Quatre said.

"Come in then," Trowa stepped back and Quatre climbed unsteadily into the trailer, but his leg buckled just as he got inside. Trowa caught him easily and picked him up. "Are you all right, Quatre?"

"When I jumped the fence, I hurt my leg." Quatre explained. Trowa carried him over to the couch and set him gently down.

"Why were you jumping a fence?"

"I already told you. I had to talk to you."

"Okay, but let's clean you up first," Trowa started digging through cabinets and emerged with alcohol, cotton balls, a towel, band-aids and ointment. He passed the alcohol and cotton balls to Quatre. "Take care of your arms and I'll check your leg."

"Okay." While Quatre did as he was told, Trowa rolled up his pant leg and grimaced as he saw a large, bleeding cut on his leg.

"It's starting to swell," he pointed out, picking up the alcohol. "Do you have any pain pills with you?"

"No, I left them at the house. I hadn't really planned on running away."

Trowa lifted Quatre's leg and laid it back down on the towel. "Sorry, Quatre, this is going to hurt," he said, pouring the alcohol over the cut. Quatre drew in a sharp breath and clenched his hands into fists. Trowa leaned forward and blew gently on Quatre's leg. Quatre froze, feeling a blush creeping up his neck, but he didn't say anything and Trowa soon finished taking care of his leg.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Trowa asked, while putting away the medicine and getting Quatre an icepack from Catherine's freezer.

"Something strange is going on at home," Quatre took the ice pack and put it on his leg, Trowa sitting down beside him. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but I can sense that something is wrong. My sisters are acting odd and I'm always being watched. I think they're planning something. I just wish I knew what it was. Besides, the way they threw you out of the house was also odd. We were raised to always be polite, no matter what."

"They did seem to be almost desperate for me to leave," Trowa mused. "But perhaps we're overanalyzing the situation. You said the other day that you didn't even know most of your sisters. Maybe they're just weird people."

"Maybe, but I just can't help thinking something's not right."

Trowa remembered his phone call from Lady Une and had to admit it seemed a little overboard just to keep the two of them apart. "Actually, Quatre, you may be on to something. Earlier I received..." Trowa started, but was interrupted by someone pounding on the door. He got to his feet and crossed the room to open the door.

"Is Master Quatre here?" Aram demanded as soon as he saw Trowa.

"He might be," Trowa replied vaguely, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

"His sisters don't know I'm here. They don't even know that Quatre's missing," Aram said. "I knew he'd come here and I was worried about him. I wanted to make sure he got here safely."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"He hasn't been well the last two days. He doesn't sleep and he hardly eats anything," Aram informed Trowa. "I knew it was because you weren't around. I felt bad for Master Quatre, but there was nothing I could do about it. I don't like going against Master Quatre's wishes, but as long as his sisters are in charge, I don't have a choice."

"I understand, Aram," Trowa leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "The circus is putting on a show this evening. Why don't you come back when it's over? I'm sure Quatre will go back with you then."

Aram smiled and bowed. "Thank you very much, Master Trowa, sir."

"Please, don't call me that," Trowa said, feeling a little awkward.

"You are Master Quatre's fiance and as such I have to give you the proper respect you deserve. That's why I'm calling you 'Master Trowa'," Aram explained, leaving Trowa speechless. Aram bowed again. "Goodbye, Master Trowa. Take care of Master Quatre until I return."

"Was that Aram?" Quatre inquired as Trowa rejoined him.

"Yeah."

"Does he want me to return home?"

"I told him to come back after the performance tonight," Trowa looked Quatre over carefully, noticing for the first time that he had dark circles under his eyes. "But, more importantly, why haven't you been sleeping?"

Quatre averted his eyes. "No reason."

"Liar." Trowa accused.

"It's a stupid reason and you'll...I don't know...laugh or something."

"If it has to do with you, Quatre, it's not stupid and I promise I won't laugh."

Quatre met Trowa's eyes before looking away again, feeling his face heat up. "I can't sleep unless you're with me," he mumbled finally.

"Huh?" Trowa gasped, a chuckle escaping from his mouth.

"Trowa! You promised you wouldn't laugh!" Quatre exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Quatre," Trowa apologized, forcing down the laughter that wanted to come out. "It just...it sounded like a really, really bad pick-up line."

"I'm completely serious," Quatre insisted. "I realized it at the hospital, the first night I was awake. My bed seemed so empty and I was lonely. It was because I'd gotten used to you being with me when I slept. Every night I was in the hospital and every night I was at Dr Townsend's house, I had to take a sleeping pill before I could go to sleep."

"Oh, Quatre, I'm sorry," Trowa apologized again. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. I didn't want you to know because it's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing, Quatre," Trowa said softly. "In fact, I think it's kind of sweet."

Quatre gave him a withering glare. "You may think it's sweet, but it's really a pain not being able to sleep at night. It messes with my head."

"We'd better keep you away from the Zero system then. No telling what you might do." Trowa said laughingly.

"That's not funny!" Quatre shouted, smacking him hard on the arm.

Trowa stopped laughing and looked at Quatre seriously, reaching out his hand to run his fingers through Quatre's hair. "All joking aside, it's not good for you to go without sleep, Quatre. We still have a couple of hours before the show, why don't you try to sleep?"

"Okay," Quatre agreed. Trowa took the now melted icepack and put it back in the freezer, while Quatre stretched out on the couch. When Trowa came back, he brought a blanket to cover Quatre up with and then he lay down on the opposite couch. He picked up a book he was reading that he'd left on the table between the two couches, but he'd only read a few sentences before Quatre's voice interrupted his concentration.

"Trowa?"

"Yeah, Quatre?"

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Quatre asked hesitantly.

Trowa put his book down and pushed himself up so he could see Quatre. Quatre wore an odd, unreadable expression on his face. "Why would I mind?"

"Why do you love me, Trowa?" Quatre forced out, meeting Trowa's eyes.

"Why are you asking that now?" Trowa questioned, completely confused.

"I want to know. It's been bothering me. After all, I...I almost...killed you, Trowa," Quatre pointed out, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

Trowa got up and went around the table to kneel down in front of Quatre's couch. He wrapped his arms around Quatre. "I've told you hundreds of times not to worry about that anymore, but I guess it's my own fault for bringing up the Zero system."

Quatre buried his face against Trowa's shoulder and sighed. "I would still like to know the answer."

"I love you because of who you are, Quatre," Trowa said. "You're smart and stubborn. You possess amazing leadership abilities and firm beliefs that you're not afraid to stand up for. You're also stronger emotionally than anyone I've ever met and at the same time you're also sensitive and caring. Like, for example, on Libra, even though Dorothy stabbed you, you still cared about her safety and her heart. I, on the other hand, wanted to kill her. But what about you, Quatre? Why do you love me?"

"Because you understood me and, even though I hurt you, you still forgave me," Quatre replied, pulling back so he could see Trowa's face. "Do you remember that night in San Francisco? When we were on our way to New Edwards?"

"Of course."

"You acted so cold to me then."

"Sorry about that, but I knew my feelings had no place in the middle of a war and I wanted to avoid you, so when I saw you I was surprised and even a little bit angry. I tried to put distance between us, but you wouldn't leave me alone." Trowa laughed at the memory.

"And in the end you agreed to stay at the hotel with me. We talked late into the night. Well, mostly I talked and you listened, but that was the first time anyone had ever done that for me. Anyway after we went to sleep, you woke me up. You were having some kind of nightmare and crying out for your mother."

"I was?"

"Yes. I knelt beside the couch and touched your face. You immediately calmed down and opened your eyes, but you weren't awake. Before you shut your eyes again, you called me 'Mom'."

"I did?!" Trowa cried, his face flushing in embarrassment.

"You did," Quatre confirmed. "You seemed so sad and lonely to me then. I wanted to take away your loneliness and pain. I think it was at that moment that I fell in love with you."

They stayed silent for a few minutes. Finally Trowa asked, "You want to know a secret?"

"What?"

"You fell asleep first that night. I watched you sleep and thought you looked like an angel. And then...I kissed you."

"Really?"

"Really, but you didn't even blink, so I kissed you again. I wondered what I'd say if you woke up, but you just slept on and I decided I'd better go to sleep too before you caught me."

"Rashid was right," Quatre admitted. "I was far too trusting when it came to you."

"Was that a bad thing?" Trowa asked, brushing Quatre's hair away from his face and kissing him gently.

"I don't know. Maybe it was." Quatre teased, kissing him back.

Trowa leaned his forehead against Quatre's. "Now, no more worrying," he ordered. "Okay?"

"I'll try not to, but you know I'm a worrywart."

"I know. Just promise me that anytime you're worried, you'll come and talk to me. No matter what it's about. Alright?"

"Alright, Trowa," Quatre agreed. "I promise."

"Think you can sleep now?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Trowa pressed his lips to Quatre's forehead before returning to the other couch.

****************************************

Sometime later, Catherine came back to her trailer to get ready for the show. As she opened the door, she noted how quiet it was and wondered where Trowa was.

"Trowa?" she called softly, stepping inside the semi-dark trailer. He didn't answer and she waited for her eyes to adjust. After they had, she realized that both of her couches held sleeping boys. Trowa was on the couch closest to her, his head resting on his shoulder and his right arm dangling on the floor still holding his book. Catherine smiled down at him and turned to the other couch, already knowing who the occupant was. Quatre was curled up on his side, his head pillowed on his arms and a peaceful expression on his face. On the floor beside him was the blanket Trowa had brought him.

Catherine picked up the blanket and covered Quatre back up. She carefully took Trowa's book from him, put it on the table and laid his arm across his stomach. She found another blanket and tucked it around him. They could sleep for another hour before she had to wake them up. She headed for her room at the back of the trailer, still smiling and feeling like a mother. By the time she was dressed, the hour was over and she woke Trowa up with several good shakes.

"You've got about 30 minutes, so you'd better hurry and get ready too, Trowa. I'm going ahead, so don't fall back asleep, okay?" Catherine said, slipping out of the trailer. Trowa sat up and looked over at Quatre, who was still sleeping soundly. Trowa crossed the room and leaned over Quatre. He reached out and ran a finger down the side of Quatre's beautiful face.

Quatre stirred. "Mmm, Trowa?" he murmured sleepily, opening his eyes slowly.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Trowa said quietly, bending down to kiss Quatre.

"It's not morning," Quatre pointed out, wrapping his arms around Trowa's neck and returning the kiss. Finally, Trowa forced himself to pull away from Quatre and straightened up.

"I've got to get ready," he explained apologetically.

"Oh, are you performing tonight?" Quatre asked as he sat up.

"Yeah. I help out around here whenever I get the chance." Trowa answered, opening a nearby trunk and drawing out his costume and mask.

"Great!" Quatre exclaimed. "I love watching you perform. You're so graceful."

"Thanks, Quatre." Trowa disappeared into the bathroom and emerged several minutes later dressed in his costume. He dropped onto the couch to put on his shoes, gloves and ruffled collar.

"I've always been afraid of clowns," Quatre announced, watching Trowa slide his hand into a glove.

"You have?" Trowa looked up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, it freaks me out that they are always pretending to be happy and grinning creepily," Quatre shuddered. "When I was about 4, I ran away from home. Somehow I ended up at the circus and there was this really scary clown that kept following me around, leering at me. Eventually one of my bodyguards found me and dragged me home, but ever since then I've been afraid of clowns."

Trowa got up and reached out for Quatre's hands, pulling him to his feet. "Does that mean you're afraid of me?"

"Of course I'm not," Quatre protested.

"Not even with my mask on?" Trowa slipped the mask on.

Quatre frowned. "Okay, the mask is kind of creepy," he admitted.

"At least I only wear it when I'm performing," Trowa laughed and took off the mask. "Come on, we'd better get on over to the tent or Catherine will have our heads."

When Quatre and Trowa reached the main tent, they spilt up, Trowa heading for the back and Quatre to the stands. Quatre found himself an empty front row seat and sat down. Soon the ringmaster appeared and the crowd applauded as the show started. They watched raptly as elephants with beautiful girls standing on their backs paraded out. After the elephants came a fire eater and a sword swallower.

Finally it was time for Trowa's tightrope act. The spotlight focused on his figure so far above their heads. He made an exaggerated bow and stepped onto the thin wire. He walked calmly to the opposite side as easily as if he was on solid ground. He paused at the end and then did three back flips, landing perfectly each time, the last flip bringing him back to the beginning. Next, taking a deep breath, he launched himself high into the air, turned two somersaults and three twists and landed gently at the end of the tightrope. He turned towards the audience and made another bow, searching the darkened crowd until he spotted Quatre. He blew a kiss in Quatre's direction and the female audience members all squealed, certain the kiss was for them. The actual recipient grinned and raised his hand a little in acknowledgment.

The spotlight moved off Trowa and he quickly climbed down. 30 minutes later, he was back in the spotlight, this time with Catherine as she got ready for her knife-throwing act.

"Normally I like to throw knives at my adorable assistant, but tonight I'd like to use a volunteer instead," Catherine announced. Trowa glanced at her curiously and, seeing a devilish glint in her eyes, knew exactly what she had planned and who the "volunteer" was. Catherine made a big deal out of looking at the crowd, but soon her eyes zeroed in on Quatre.

Catherine smiled evilly and pointed at Quatre. "You will be my volunteer," she practically cackled. "Dear assistant, please, fetch my victim...oops, I mean my volunteer."

The audience laughed while Trowa approached Quatre. He held out his hand and helped Quatre from the stands. Then he led him to the large board propped up in the middle of the ring.

"What is she doing?" Quatre asked as Trowa spread his arms out against the board.

"She loves torturing people," Trowa explained. "Just stand still and she probably won't hit you."

"'Probably'?" Quatre repeated.

Trowa's hand touched the left side of his head unconsciously. "She hasn't hit me in years."

"She hit you?" Quatre demanded, looking worried.

"Only once." Trowa quickly assured him before he left Quatre and returned to Catherine's side.

"Consider this revenge for taking my brother away from me," she said only loud enough for them to hear. Quatre's eyes widened in horror and even Trowa looked a little unsure. "Don't look so scared, Quatre, I won't kill you. After all, you're very important to Trowa and you're going to be my brother-in-law. Besides I'm sure the crowd doesn't want to see you die either."

With a flourish, Trowa presented Catherine with her throwing knives. She posed with the knives spread out in her hand like a deck of cards and then selected one. Quatre closed his eyes as he saw the knife leave her hand and fly towards him. He heard it hit with a dull thump next to his right ear. The crowd oohed and ahhed as she threw three knives at once. One buried itself into the wood near his ribs on the left side, another in the space between his neck and left shoulder and the last beside his bad leg. She threw three more which landed in exactly the same spots only on the right side. The last knife she held high and pitched it at his head. Quatre resisted the urge to duck and felt the knife hit above him. Trowa motioned at him to join them in the spotlight. Quatre stepped away from the board and took a good look at the knives there. The one that had been thrown at his head had a small clump of blond hair pinned to the board. He gasped and his hand flew to the top of his head. When his hand came away blood free, he breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over to Trowa and Catherine. The three bowed to the audience, who cheered and clapped loudly.

"You can come backstage with us now, Quatre," Trowa said. "I'm done."

"That's all you're doing?" Quatre asked disappointedly as he followed Trowa out of the ring. When they got backstage, Catherine went off to get ready for her next act while Quatre and Trowa found somewhere quiet to sit and wait for the end of the circus.

"Yeah," Trowa answered, taking off his mask. "I opted to do the tightrope tonight instead of the trapeze and the manager won't let me work with the animals since I'm not officially part of the circus anymore."

"Why did you quit working here anyway, Trowa?"

"Well, I guess I got bored," Trowa replied, tugging off his gloves and laying them beside his mask. "At first it was really fun just being normal and not having to fight, but it didn't take me long to grow tired of it. Shortly after that, Lady Une offered me a position as a Preventer and I took her up on it."

The two sat quietly for awhile, listening to the animals' noises and the crowd's cheers and applause. "When is Aram supposed to show up?" Quatre asked, breaking the silence.

"I told him to come when the show is over, so he should be here soon."

"I'm not sure I want to go back, but I can't hide out here forever. Mostly I came here to see and talk to you. Now that I've done that, I need to find out what's going on in that house and why I have this horrible feeling of dread."

Trowa picked up Quatre's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry, Quatre. I'm sure everything is fine and, if it's not, I'll protect you."

"Thanks, Trowa." Quatre smiled at him. Leaning forward, Trowa brushed his lips against Quatre's. Quatre laid his head on Trowa's shoulder and they fell silent again, just enjoying their time together.

************************************************

As soon as the circus was over, Aram showed up and Quatre went with him willingly. Thankfully, Quatre's sisters hadn't noticed that he was missing and he managed to get back into the house without them finding out. Aram left him in his room and took up his station outside the door. Quatre dragged the blanket off his bed and curled up with it on one of the chairs in his room. Surely if he could sleep on a couch without Trowa, he could sleep on a chair without him too.

Morning came quickly and Quatre was surprised to see that he had, indeed, slept soundly on the chair, but the biggest surprise of the day was yet to come. Quatre went down and joined his sisters for breakfast. He sat down across from Harmony just as the maid placed a steaming plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.

"Good morning, Quatre," Karen greeted him coolly. "I trust you slept well?"

Quatre met her eyes and felt a shiver of warning run down his spine. "As a matter of fact, I did not." Quatre fibbed, dropping his eyes to his plate, but not missing the look his sisters shared.

"We have good news for you, Quatre," Aliya announced. "We've hired you a new bodyguard."

"I thought Aram was my bodyguard," Quatre wasn't shocked at the news, merely curious.

"Aram isn't strong enough..." Karen started.

"Or smart enough," Harmony interrupted.

"...to protect you," Karen finished, glaring at Harmony.

"Who did you hire?" Quatre asked.

"We don't know, actually," Karen admitted. "We left the decision up to Lady Une."

"So you hired a Preventer? What are you trying to prevent?"

"The humiliation of the Winner name."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you know how embarrassing it would be if people found out that you were...GAY?" Harmony spat the word out like it was a curse.

"So you're hiring someone to keep Trowa and me apart." Quatre stated.

"Exactly."

"Isn't that a little extreme?"

"Quatre, you are the only living male of the Winner family," Karen informed him. "Only through your marriage to a suitable woman, and the birth of your children, can the Winner name live on."

"Then I'll adopt children and give them my name," Quatre replied sensibly. "Or, when one of you gets married, have your husband take your last name."

"That's not the same thing." Karen argued.

"Why not? For all we know I might be sterile, in which case there won't be any children." Quatre got to his feet and left the dining room, heading for his music room. As he was going up the stairs, a loud knock sounded on the front door and brought him to a halt. A butler appeared out of nowhere and opened the door. Looking beyond the butler, Quatre was shocked to see Trowa, dressed in his Preventer's jacket, standing there.

"Good morning, sir," the butler said haughtily. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Trowa Barton," Trowa replied and showed the butler his badge that identified him as a Preventer agent. "I was hired by the Winner family and sent by the Preventers to act as Master Quatre's bodyguard."

The butler looked him over carefully before stepping back enough so Trowa could enter. "This way, sir," the butler said, waving him inside.

Trowa stepped inside and spotted Quatre on the stairs. "Good morning, Master Quatre," he greeted, bowing gracefully. At that same moment, Harmony came out of the dining room, saw Trowa and screamed, bringing the other sisters running.

"What are you doing here?" Karen demanded angrily.

"Good morning, Misses Winner," Trowa bowed again. "Lady Une told me you wished to hire a Gundam pilot to guard Master Quatre and she chose me."

"What about the other three?"

"Heero Yuy is Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlain's personal bodyguard and Duo Maxwell and Wufei Chang are also assigned other missions at this time. I'm the only one free."

Karen was at a loss for words and very, very angry. She glared at Trowa before turning on her heel and storming up the stairs. The other sisters followed her. Quatre and Trowa watched them and soon heard the faraway slamming of a door. Trowa joined Quatre on the stairs.

"Sorry I didn't tell you about this yesterday, Quatre," Trowa said. "I really meant to, but Aram interrupted and then I forgot that I hadn't told you."

"Don't worry about it, Trowa."

"Where are you going now?"

"I was planning to go to the music room."

"Great! I love hearing you play."

The two continued on to the music room while in the hidden room on the top floor, Quatre's sisters were having another emergency meeting with their collaborator.

"That stupid woman tricked us!" Karen fumed, pacing the small room.

"What are we going to do?" Zoe asked. "We've already hired him and it would reflect badly upon on us to fire him now."

"We have to get him out of the picture for our plan to succeed." Harmony said calmly.

"Quatre has to do it," the woman spoke up. "If he doesn't, Trowa Barton will just keep showing up and causing us problems."

"There's no way Quatre will ever tell that brat to get lost."

"Then we'll just have to make him," Aliya said. "Blackmail, perhaps?"

"Quatre would die before he ever let Trowa go," the blonde-haired woman said. "So Trowa will have to be the one you're threatening."

Karen's eyes lit up and she stopped pacing. "I have the perfect idea," she declared.

******************************************

Trowa and Quatre were still in the music room when Karen came looking for Quatre. Quatre went with her willingly, whispering to Trowa that he would be fine, but to come looking for him if he wasn't back in five minutes. Karen led Quatre down the hall to their father's home office and he found the other four sisters waiting for them. Karen shut the door and stood in front of it as if to keep him from escaping. Quatre suddenly felt nervous and wished he'd brought Trowa along after all.

"We have something to discuss with you, Quatre." Karen said.

"And what would that be?" Quatre asked, keeping his voice even.

"We want you to fire Mr. Barton." Harmony answered.

"And break up with him." Karen added.

"No." Quatre stated.

"That's fine," Aliya said, making Quatre instantly suspicious. She meandered over to the giant window behind the desk and looked out it. Coincidentally the window faced the same direction that the circus lay in. "You know, Mr. Barton was nice enough to tell us the other day that he has a sister. We understand that she works at that circus."

Quatre felt his blood run cold as Harmony picked up where Aliya had left off. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to that girl. Wouldn't it, Quatre?" she inquired innocently.

"You wouldn't dare." Quatre said, hoping against hope that they were bluffing.

Harmony leaned closer to him. "Do you really want to try us?" she asked menacingly.

Quatre looked from one sister to the next, but saw no mercy in their eyes. He bowed his head in defeat. "You win," he said softly. "I'll do as you have asked."

"I'm glad we could reach an agreement, Quatre." Karen smiled at him. His sisters left the room, shutting the door behind them and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

"This is so not fair!" Quatre cried, dropping onto the corner of the desk and putting his head in his hands. He tried to stop his tears, but a few escaped anyway. A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

"Quatre, are you okay in there?" Trowa's voice floated through the door and Quatre jumped to his feet, rubbing at his face to rid it of any traces that he'd been crying. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. As soon as he felt composed, he called out to Trowa and told him to come in.

"Close the door, please," he said after Trowa had entered the room. Trowa did as he was told, noticing the complete lack of emotion both on Quatre's face and in his voice.

"Are you okay, Quatre?" Trowa asked.

"I'm fine, Trowa," Quatre replied stiffly. He leaned back against the desk, crossed his arms, looked Trowa straight in the eye and lied through his teeth. "I've been thinking a lot about us and I've come to the conclusion that I don't really love you."

"What?!" Trowa gasped.

"The other night when I asked you to marry me, I was in pain, high on pain killers and tired. I wasn't thinking clearly and I certainly didn't mean what I said."

"I don't believe you, Quatre. You're lying." Trowa said with conviction.

"Think what you want, Trowa, but I'm perfectly serious. I wish to retract my proposal and my confession. I'd also like you to get out of my house as soon as possible."

"Quat..." Trowa started, but trailed off when he saw the cold hardness in Quatre's eyes and he felt the fight drain out of him. "I don't know why you're doing this, Quatre, but it isn't like you. I'll abide by your wishes and leave if that's what you want. However I'll wait for you by the front door for fifteen minutes, in case you change your mind."

Quatre watched Trowa leave the room and shut the door behind him. Quatre's legs gave out beneath him and he sank to the floor feeling lifeless and empty. The slow ticking of the clock sounded loud to Quatre's ears and he found himself counting the minutes. By the time the fifteen minutes had passed, Quatre was standing at the window. He heard the front door close and saw Trowa walk away from the mansion with his shoulders hunched and his head down.

"I'm sorry, Trowa," Quatre whispered as he touched the window with his fingertips and allowed his tears to fall.

***********************************

Trowa trudged slowly back to Catherine's, wondering what was wrong with his fiance. He knew that Quatre hadn't meant a word of what he'd said, but why had he said it in the first place? Trowa figured it had something to do with Quatre's sisters. But why were they going to such lengths to keep Quatre and Trowa apart? Surely it wasn't just because they were both men.

"I don't understand, Quatre," Trowa muttered, stopping to look back at Quatre's mansion. "But I agree with you now about something being wrong. Don't forget, Quatre, I promised to protect you and I plan on doing just that."

Trowa continued on to the circus. Catherine was surprised to see him back so soon, until he explained what had happened. Then she wanted to storm the mansion and rescue Quatre right away. Trowa calmed her down and convinced her that he wasn't giving up. The next three days passed slowly and Trowa spent most of his time watching the Winner home carefully. On the second day, Trowa noticed that all the servants and guards were slowly leaving and several hours later they were all gone.

Trowa took the opportunity to get closer and peeked in the windows that were lit up. Most of the rooms were empty as far as he could tell, but he stumbled across one that wasn't. Inside he could see Quatre's sisters discussing something excitedly, but he couldn't hear them through the thick glass and, unlike Heero, he wasn't very good at reading lips. From the few words he could pick out, they were talking about Quatre, some sort of plan and dolls, but it didn't make any sense to Trowa.

Giving up on the sisters, Trowa went around the corner of the house and stopped underneath Quatre's balcony, feeling torn. One part of him wanted to see Quatre and the other was warning him against it. While he was hesitating, he heard a door open nearby and he slipped away from the house before he got caught.

***********************************

The three days passed slowly for Quatre too. He stopped sleeping and, unless Aram forced him, he didn't eat either. He spent all day sitting in his chair in his room and he didn't speak to anyone. For the most part, the rest of the household, excluding Aram, ignored him. Then on the morning of the third day, Quatre's sisters gathered in his room.

"Good morning, Quatre." Harmony greeted, smiling at him. Poor Quatre looked terrible. He had lost more weight and he was so pale that the black circles under his eyes stood out even more.

"What do you guys want?" Quatre demanded, glaring at them. "I did as you asked. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"We have a favor to ask of you." Karen replied.

Quatre was instantly on guard. "I'm not going to do it, whatever it is," he stated.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Quatre," Karen said. "See you keep getting in the way of our plans and now we've decided to make you a part of them."

"Originally we had planned to kill you," Harmony perched on the arm of his chair with a laugh. Quatre's eyes widened in horror. "Then, after the earthquake, we thought you were gone for good, but you just wouldn't be a good boy and stay dead."

"Once we discovered that you were alive," Aliya picked up the story. "We went back to our first plan of doing you in. That's why we sent Aram to retrieve you, but you just had to bring that stupid guy with you. We tried our hardest to run him off."

"But then we saw how weak you got when he wasn't around and we decided we could use you after all," Amy said.

"Actually it was her idea to use you," Zoe informed him.

"Who's 'her'?" Quatre inquired.

"Oh, that's right!" Karen exclaimed. "You haven't gotten to meet the last member of our group yet. Come on. We'll take you to her now."

"No," Quatre refused. "I'm not going with you anywhere."

"Sorry, Quatre, but you don't have the strength to fight all five of us." Harmony observed.

Together the sisters lifted Quatre easily and started for the top floor. Quatre struggled, but it soon became apparent that Harmony was right: he didn't have the strength to fight them all.

"Help!" he shouted loudly. "Help me!"

"Shout all you want, Quatre," Karen said as they started up the stairs. "We've dismissed all the servants, so there's no one to hear you."

Quatre felt like a complete failure. He stopped trying to get away and hung his head. When the strange procession reached the hallway of the top floor, Karen moved aside a painting to reveal a hidden switch behind it. She flipped the switch and a small portion of the wall next to it swung open. They carried Quatre inside and deposited him in a chair in the middle of the room. Karen and Harmony held onto his shoulders so he couldn't escape. The wall slid silently shut and plunged the room into darkness. For several seconds it was silent in the room and then a click was heard as a lamp was turned on. The light from the lamp illuminated the dark space and lit up a very familiar face.

"Dorothy?!" Quatre gasped.

"It's nice to see you again, Quatre." Dorothy Catalonia purred.

"What are you doing here, Dorothy?" Quatre demanded.

"I've tried to live in your war-free world, Quatre, and it's boring, so I've decided to start my own war."

"Are you crazy?"

"Perhaps," Dorothy answered in her calm way. "At any rate, you're going to help me start it, Quatre."

"Over my dead body."

Dorothy sighed. "That's what your sisters wanted too, but I have to disagree. People trust you, Quatre. I'm going to use that trust to achieve my desires and you're not going to be able to do a thing about it."

Dorothy stepped towards Quatre and he noticed the wires clutched tightly in her hand. "What are you going to do, Dorothy?" he asked fearfully.

"Just watch, Quatre," she said as she attached each wire carefully to his head. Then she walked over to the table where a laptop computer was set up and turned it on. .

A familiar buzzing sensation filled Quatre's mind and caused him to cry out, "It's the Zero system!"

"Not exactly, Quatre," Dorothy said, typing something into the computer that made the buzzing worse and nearly drowned out her voice. "This system is more powerful than Zero. You'll never be able to control it."

Quatre tried to resist the force on his mind, but he was losing. "Stop this, Dorothy," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Quatre," she replied, hitting more keys. "But I don't want to."

The buzzing got louder, the force pushed harder and black spots appeared in Quatre's vision. "Trowa, help me," he whispered before losing consciousness.

****************************************

Later that day, Trowa approached the Winner home and was surprised to find it empty. No matter what window he looked in, he couldn't find anybody and something told him that Quatre was in trouble. He snuck into the house and carefully checked it over from the first floor up to the third, but the house was deserted. Feeling apprehensive, he returned to the circus.

Over the next two days, Trowa kept checking Quatre's mansion for any sign of life without any luck. Late afternoon on the second day found Trowa and Catherine sitting in her trailer watching TV. At least, Catherine was watching. Trowa was busy trying to come up with a plan to find and save Quatre. Suddenly the TV screen went black and an ominous beeping filled the room, catching Trowa's attention.

"What's wrong with the TV?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it's some kind of alert or something." Cathy suggested. The beeping came to an abrupt stop and a young man's image filled the screen.

"Trowa!" Catherine cried. "Isn't that...?"

"Quatre!" Trowa gasped and took a closer look. The person on the TV looked nearly identical to Quatre, but they were missing the scar above their eye and their features were more feminine than Quatre's. Only one of Quatre's sisters looked enough like him to pass themselves off as him. "No, it's not him. It's Harmony, but what is she doing?"

"Good afternoon," Harmony's mouth moved, but it was Quatre's voice that came out. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Quatre Raberba Winner and I'm declaring war on both the Earth and the space colonies."

"What?!" Catherine and Trowa exclaimed.

"I suppose you could consider this a warning," Quatre's voice and Harmony's mouth said. "In 48 hours, I will be sending out a squadron of 30 mobile dolls to wipe out all of humanity. You can try to stop me if you think you can. In fact, I hope you will try. It'll make your deaths even more fun for me.

"Thank you for your time. Please, enjoy your last hours alive," Harmony stood and bowed towards the camera. While she was standing, Trowa got a good look at the room behind her and recognized Quatre's father's office. Then the screen went black again only to be replaced quickly with news reporters telling people not to panic.

Trowa got to his feet and headed for the door. "I've got to save Quatre," he said, but before he could make it out the door, the phone rang and he snatched it up.

"Barton," Lady Une's voice barked through the phone. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Trowa admitted.

"You were supposed to be guarding him," she said accusingly.

"Quatre fired me and threw me out five days ago," Trowa replied. "But that wasn't Quatre on the TV."

"Who was it?"

"His sister Harmony."

"Where's Quatre?"

"I don't know," he said again. "I was just on my way to find him when you called."

"You are forbidden to step foot on the Winner's property."

"What?! Why?"

"This is official Preventer business. I'm going to send Miss Relena to the colony to try and talk Quatre or Harmony or whoever out of doing this. I'll send the other Gundam pilots with her."

"No," Trowa said firmly, knowing he was digging his own grave by disobeying direct orders. "I can handle this on my own."

"Absolutely not, Barton." Lady Une snapped.

"Please, just give me 12 hours," Trowa begged. "This is partially my fault after all. If I haven't succeeded by then, send Relena and the others. But, please, just give me a chance."

Lady Une sighed. "Fine, I'll give you 12 hours. You'd better not fail," she said and hung up the phone.

"Was that Lady Une?" Catherine inquired as Trowa hung up.

"Yeah."

"Well?"

"I've got 12 hours to save Quatre and stop 30 mobile dolls."

"Are you serious?"

Trowa smiled grimly at Cathy. "Should be a piece of cake for an ex-Gundam pilot, don't you think?"

"Why are you doing this, Trowa?"

"I promised Quatre I'd protect him and I mean to keep that promise. Also, like I told Lady Une, I feel responsible for this happening." Trowa grabbed his Preventer's jacket and opened the trailer door.

"Be careful, Trowa," Cathy said. "Don't die."

"Don't worry, Cathy. I'll be fine." Trowa jumped down from the trailer and shut the door behind him. It didn't take him long to reach Quatre's and he was shocked to see that a large crowd had gathered outside it. There were TV crews, civilians and police officers surrounding the giant house. The reporters were interviewing people who were saying horrible things about the Winner family and Quatre in particular.

Trowa felt someone come up behind him and turned to see a blonde woman who resembled his beloved. "This isn't good," the woman said softly, eyeing the crowd. She glanced at Trowa and gasped, "I know you!"

"You do?" Trowa asked.

"You're that Gundam pilot that Quatre likes so much. Uhm...Trowa Barton, right?"

"That's me, but who are you?"

"Oh, forgive my rudeness. My name is Indira Lawrence, seventh born of the Winner siblings."

"So you're Quatre's sister then," Trowa said. "Do you know what's going on here?"

"I'm afraid it's our fault," Indira admitted. "Back when we thought Quatre had died, Karen, Harmony, Zoe, Amy and Aliya offered to take care of the funeral preparations. The rest of us were so busy, that we agreed without hesitation and didn't question their actions. In fact it wasn't until the service itself, that we realized you guys hadn't been invited. For which we owe you an apology. No matter what we thought of you guys personally, you were still some of Quatre's closest friends and by right you should have been there."

"Don't worry about it," Trowa assured her. "We held our own memorial service for him. Although it was all unnecessary since Quatre wasn't even dead. But what about after the funeral? Who was in charge of the corporation?"

"We left it in their hands, so it's really our fault." Indira said sadly.

"It takes months to manufacture that many mobile dolls, so they must have been planning this for awhile. Perhaps even before Quatre 'died'. Really it's nobody's fault, but theirs," Trowa nodded as another thought occurred to him. "It also explains why they were so intent on getting rid of me."

"They were afraid you'd find out." Indira stated.

"Exactly."

"So what's going to happen now?" Indira asked.

"I'm going to have to come up with some kind of plan, but right now all I can think about is Quatre," Trowa sighed, glancing up at the seemingly-deserted mansion. "I really hope he's okay."

"Why don't you go and save him then?"

"I need a plan before I just go rushing in and I think I'd better take care of the mobile dolls first."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"To build 30 mobile dolls you'd need a large place to build them and a large place to store them. Is there any place on this colony that fits that description?"

Indira thought hard for several minutes. "There are a few places that come to mind," she said finally. "Most of them are closed or abandoned factories, but it would take too long to search them all. Is there anyway to narrow them down?"

"Can you get me access to a computer?"

"Of course, but how will that help?"

"Wherever the dolls are being made, they'll be using a lot of electricity. I can hack into the electric company's database and find the place that's using the most electricity." Trowa explained.

By the time Trowa figured out where the mobile dolls were being built, Indira had rounded up volunteers. Trowa divided them into two groups; one to gain control of the factory and the other to storm the Winner mansion. Then he laid out plans for each group. He picked a strong-looking man named Gavyn to head the first team and he took charge of the second team. The two groups went their separate ways and soon Trowa's team was sneaking into the mansion. They split up to search and it didn't take them long to realize the place was completely empty.

"There's something not right here." Trowa muttered to himself.

"Uh, Trowa, sir?" a young man asked hesitantly after they'd all gathered at the foot of the staircase.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, what should we do now, sir?"

Trowa turned and looked up the stairs, feeling drawn towards the top floor. He just knew that Quatre was somewhere inside this house. "I want you guys to go and help Gavyn's team with the dolls. I'm going to look around here some more."

"Yes, sir," the young man said.

Trowa watched them leave and then headed for the third floor. When he got there, he carefully searched every room and came to the conclusion that something was definitely strange about that floor. Just to the right of the stairs were two rooms. Between those two rooms was a span of about eight feet that was unaccounted for. Instinct told him that there was something hidden in that eight feet. He methodically checked the two walls that should have been connected, but came up with nothing. He returned to the hall with a sigh and was surprised to see an opening in the wall.

Trowa peeked into the room and his eyes fell at once onto Quatre, who was still sitting in the chair, wires connecting him to the super Zero system. "Quatre!" Trowa cried, rushing to his side. Quatre was so pale and still that he looked dead.

"I knew you'd be the one to come, Trowa Barton," an irritatingly familiar voice spoke up from behind him. "You always come when your princess is in trouble, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Dorothy," Trowa straightened up and turned to face her. She was leaning, with her arms crossed, against the wall beside the opening to the hall and glaring at him. "What have you done to Quatre?"

"What does it look like?"

"What are all those wires for?" Trowa reached out and grasped one of the wires, intending to pull it off.

"I wouldn't take that off if I were you." Dorothy warned.

"Why not?"

"Because if you do, Quatre will die instantly," Dorothy smiled smugly as Trowa yanked his hand away from the wire. "Quatre's mind is directly linked with a system much like the Zero system. Only this system is nearly three times as powerful."

"But Quatre's already mastered the Zero system," Trowa protested. "Surely he can master this one as well."

"Quatre's too weak to fight this system," Dorothy stated, shaking her head in feigned sadness. "There are only 5 options available to him right now."

"And what are those?"

"Option number one; he can just do as he's told. Option number two; he has control of every machine in this colony and so he could blow it up. That way only the people on this colony have to die."

"That's horrible, Dorothy!" Trowa interrupted.

"Option number three," Dorothy went on. "You could unplug him and let him die. I'm sure that's what he'd want you to do, Trowa. He certainly doesn't want to start another war."

"What's option number four?" Trowa asked when it seemed like she wasn't going to go on.

"He could master the system, but that option is really irrelevant, since there's no way Quatre can do it."

"And the last option?"

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet? I thought for sure you could easily figure out the last choice open to Quatre, but I don't mind telling you. I believe I mentioned before that Quatre has control of every machine on this colony. Since that's true, he could just shut the electricity off to this mansion and kill himself."

"What?" Trowa gasped.

"Oh, and did I mention that Quatre can hear every word we're saying. I'm sure he's getting ready to cut the electricity right now."

"Quatre, don't you dare!" Trowa shouted, dropping to his knees in front of him and grasping his shoulders. "Don't you dare leave me!"

"Poor Trowa," Dorothy said mockingly. "But it's really the only option Quatre has."

"Shut up, Dorothy!" Trowa laid his forehead against Quatre's. "I know you're strong enough to win against this system, Quatre, so don't you dare give up. Fight it. Please, Quatre. Try. For me. I need you."

"Who knew you were so sappy, Trowa," Dorothy sneered. "But I don't think you were paying attention earlier; Quatre's not strong enough to master this system. He's too weak."

"You're not weak, Quatre," Trowa said firmly. "Remember what I told you a few days ago?"

"Just shut the electricity off, Quatre, and get it over with. I'm getting tired of hearing this junk." Dorothy said.

"Dorothy!" Trowa snapped, getting to his feet and facing her angrily. Suddenly the light dimmed. Trowa felt his heart stop and then resume beating when they didn't go off.

"Dorothy," Quatre's weak voice filled the silent room. "You are a very cruel and heartless person."

"Quatre?!" Dorothy and Trowa cried in unison, turning to look at him.

"But how? Why?" Dorothy gasped, sinking to the ground in shock.

"I can't leave Trowa," came Quatre's whispery reply as he carefully removed the wires from his head with trembling hands. "And I'm not going to allow you to use my name to kill people."

"Then I'll find somebody else," she said desperately.

"I destroyed your system already." Quatre informed her.

"No!" she exclaimed. "This isn't fair!"

"I'm sorry, Dorothy, but it's over." Quatre said. He held out his arms to Trowa and Trowa picked him up. He was alarmingly lightweight and burning with fever. Trowa stepped around Dorothy and went downstairs, leaving her staring into space. Gavyn was waiting for him in the entryway.

"Trowa, sir, we've taken care of the factory," he reported. "We've arrested the Winner sisters and the workers."

"Good job," Trowa said. "There's another one on the third floor that needs to be arrested as well. Please, take care of her for me."

"Yes, sir." Gavyn said and started up the stairs. Trowa went out the front door and was surprised to find Aram coming up the front steps.

"Master Quatre!" Aram cried when he saw Quatre's pale, limp form in Trowa's arms.

"We need to get him to the hospital, Aram," Trowa said. "Can you drive us?"

"Of course, Master Trowa," Aram agreed. "Wait here while I get the car."

***************************************

Poor Quatre spent the next week in the hospital, suffering from malnourishment, dehydration, sleep deprivation, anemia and pneumonia. Trowa stayed by his side the whole time. On the second day of Quatre's hospitalization, Catherine showed up with an envelope from the people analyzing their DNA and Trowa opened it solemnly. He ignored the DNA comparison charts and went straight to the letter. His eyes scanned it quickly and came to rest on the last paragraph.

"'It is our conclusion,'" he read aloud, Catherine and Quatre leaning forward eagerly. "'That the probability of the aforementioned people being siblings is 99.4%. Anything above 90% is considered a conclusive match.'"

They cheered loudly, bringing a nurse running into the room. She congratulated them when they told her why they were cheering. They had a mini celebration that night in the hospital since the circus was leaving the next day. They even invited the nurses and other patients to join them.

After Quatre was released from the hospital, Trowa returned to Earth and Quatre worked on fixing the things his sisters had ruined. The mobile dolls his sisters had built were dismantled, their weapons destroyed and the rest sent to the junk yard. It took a month, numerous meetings, lots of deal-making and tons of patience before everything was back to normal. Quatre was reinstated as the head of the Winner family. But he'd learned that it wasn't wise to leave the running of the corporation up to just him and he held a meeting for his family to decide the best course. His sisters agreed with him and they quickly came to a decision. Quatre's job would be divided up between 6 of his sisters and himself. With the 7 of them working together, none of them would be overburdened and Quatre would be free to move to Earth and work from there.

As soon as everything was arranged, Quatre moved to Earth, to a small home in the Sanc Kingdom capitol and started planning the wedding. Then, on the 20th of October, Quatre Raberba Winner and Trowa (he opted to keep his first name) Bloom were married in a fairly large ceremony in the backyard of Relena's mansion. Afterwards, Trowa moved from his apartment into the house that Quatre had bought and they began their new life together.

THE END


	4. When You're Gone

This is the last part of a four-part series. The order of the stories is:

_San Francisco Night_

_Angel's Spirit_

_Together Forever_

_When You're Gone_

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the song. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

When You're Gone

By Megan Hardman

AC 198 December 24th

Quatre Raberba Winner sighed as he stared at the blank computer screen in front of him. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't concentrate on his work. The small house seemed to grow larger and emptier by the minute and his loneliness grew just as quickly. He fiddled with the gold ring he wore on his left ring finger, tracing the engraving that read 'Trowa'. Had it really been just a week since Trowa had left?

"I need to stop moping around," he announced, shutting off the computer. He'd wasted another whole day of work, thinking about his problems. At this rate, the proposal was never going to get written and he was going to lose a very important contract, but he still couldn't keep his mind on the task at hand.

He got to his feet and left his home office. As he passed by the bedroom, he stopped and looked in. Across from the door, was the king-sized bed he shared with his husband, Trowa. Quatre couldn't bear to sleep in it alone and so it had stayed exactly the same as it had been on the day Trowa left.

_I ALWAYS NEEDED TIME ON MY OWN_

_I NEVER THOUGHT I'D NEED YOU THERE WHEN I CRY_

_AND THE DAYS FEEL LIKE YEARS WHEN I'M ALONE_

_AND THE BED WHERE YOU LIE IS MADE UP ON YOUR SIDE_

A week ago, Trowa, along with Wufei Chang and Duo Maxwell, had been sent to a colony in the L2 cluster that was on the verge of a rebellion. They were to stay there and keep the people calm until Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlain could work out some kind of peace agreement with the leaders on both sides. No one knew how long that would take, but they weren't expected to return to Earth until after Christmas.

"And it was supposed to be our first Christmas together too," Quatre sighed again, running his hand across his eyes to wipe away the tears. Then he continued on towards the living room.

_WHEN YOU WALK AWAY I COUNT THE STEPS THAT YOU TAKE_

_DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE PIECES OF MY HEART ARE MISSING YOU_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE FACE I CAME TO KNOW IS MISSING TOO_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE WORDS I NEED TO HEAR TO ALWAYS GET ME THROUGH THE DAY AND MAKE IT OKAY_

_I MISS YOU_

The Christmas tree situated in front of the large bay window lit up the living room and sparkled with color. Quatre remembered the day he and Trowa had bought the tree. It was at the beginning of December and they had walked past a tree seller on their way home. Trowa had remarked that he'd never really celebrated Christmas before and Quatre had suggested that maybe he should this year. Trowa had been so excited about the idea, that they had immediately bought a tree and the stuff to decorate it with. That night they had lit a fire in the fireplace, drank hot chocolate and decorated the tree, while Quatre taught Trowa some Christmas carols.

Now, Quatre stopped beside the tree and reached up to touch his favorite ornament. It was a pair of connected hearts and in the center of the two it said, 'Our First Christmas' followed by their names and the year. Quatre took off the ornament and sat down on the ivory-colored couch across from the tree. On the back of the couch was Trowa's jacket, lying exactly where he'd tossed it on his way out the door to meet the shuttle. Quatre picked it up too and held the ornament and jacket close, letting his tears fall. He missed Trowa so bad it was a physical pain.

_I'VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY BEFORE_

_EVERYTHING THAT I DO REMINDS ME OF YOU_

_AND THE CLOTHES YOU LEFT, THEY LIE ON THE FLOOR_

_AND THEY SMELL JUST LIKE YOU, I LOVE THE THINGS THAT YOU DO_

Quatre stretched out on the couch and stared at the tree's lights until they blended into a rainbow-colored blob. He wondered if Trowa was thinking about him too or if he was so busy he hadn't had time to think about it. Selfishly, Quatre hoped that Trowa was missing him as much or more than he was missing Trowa. Slowly his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

_WHEN YOU WALK AWAY I COUNT THE STEPS THAT YOU TAKE_

_DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE PIECES OF MY HEART ARE MISSING YOU_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE FACE I CAME TO KNOW IS MISSING TOO_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE WORDS I NEED TO HEAR TO ALWAYS GET ME THROUGH THE DAY AND MAKE IT OKAY_

_I MISS YOU_

Just after midnight, a car pulled into the driveway and Trowa got out of it. He smiled when he noticed the Christmas tree lights were still on. Quatre was always forgetting to turn them off before he went to bed. Trowa left his stuff in the car and hurried up the walk to the front door. He opened it quietly and slipped inside. Quatre was going to be so surprised to see him back this early! And in time for Christmas, no less! He was on his way to shut off the tree lights, when he noticed Quatre on the couch. He was covered up with Trowa's jacket, their special ornament clutched in his hand and traces of tears on his cheeks. Trowa's breath caught in his throat and he was overwhelmed by the love that filled his heart. He leaned over the couch and brushed his fingers across Quatre's cheek. Quatre's eyes opened and he stared at Trowa in confusion for several seconds.

"Trowa?" he whispered finally. "Am I dreaming?"

"Not unless I am too," Trowa answered, cupping Quatre's face in his hands and kissing him softly.

"Oh, Trowa!" Quatre cried, throwing his arms around his neck. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Quatre."

"Why are you back so early?"

"Relena's powers of persuasion are amazing," Trowa replied, picking Quatre up into his arms and kissing him again. "I love you so much, Quatre."

"I've missed hearing you say that." Quatre admitted.

"Really? Well, then I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it," Trowa promised. "I love you, Quatre."

"I love you too, Trowa," Quatre pulled Trowa's head down and pressed his lips to Trowa's.

"Merry Christmas, Quatre." Trowa murmured when they parted.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Trowa," Quatre returned. "This has to be my best Christmas ever!"

_WE WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER_

_OUT HERE FOREVER_

_I KNOW WE WERE, YEAH_

_ALL I EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO KNOW_

_EVERYTHING I'D DO, I'D GIVE MY HEART AND SOUL_

_I CAN HARDLY BREATHE I NEED TO FEEL YOU HERE WITH ME, YEAH_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE PIECES OF MY HEART ARE MISSING YOU_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE FACE I CAME TO KNOW IS MISSING TOO_

_WHEN YOU'RE GONE_

_THE WORDS I NEED TO HEAR WILL ALWAYS GET ME THROUGH THE DAY AND MAKE IT OKAY_

_I MISS YOU_

THE END


End file.
